He's Come For Me
by dipdipdipmyblueship
Summary: Carla has gone to L.A. to clear her mind following Frank's attack. Set in November 2011.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Set in November 2011. Will not follow the story line.**_

_**Hope you enjoy! :)**_

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She quickly locked the door to the guest bedroom, leaning her body against it while attempting to steady her racing heart. Pushing herself away from its frame, she walked backwards, staring at the now closed door, her mobile and a small piece of paper clenched tightly in her hand. Once her back made contact with the wall behind her she slid down to floor. Drawing her knees in closer to her body, she frantically dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear; her body convulsing with shakes, her eyes never leaving the door as a familiar voice picked up,

"_Hiya you've reached Michelle! Sorry I missed your call, but leave a message and I'll get back to you, ta!"_

Carla ended the call and glanced to the clock on the side of the bed

_8:30 a.m._ Her mind already a jumble of thoughts and panic, she found herself counting eight hours ahead furiously on her fingers.

_4:30 p.m._ She dialed another number on her mobile, pressing it again to her ear but was met with her own voice on the other end,

"_Thank you for calling Underworld. We are in the office but away from the desk, please leave your name, phone number and a brief message and we'll get back to you as soon as possible."_

She angrily hung up the phone before trying another number,

"_Hiya you've reached Maria, Liam, and Kirk! Sorry I –"_

She ended the call, placing the phone next to her on the floor, and dropping her head in her hands. 'Where is everyone?' she thought. Her fingers ran through her dark brown hair as she looked at her mobile again. There was only one other person she could call; _'but do I have the nerve?'_

The fingers of her left hand curled into a fist around the hair at the crown of her head, as her right hand dropped to her mouth. She absentmindedly began chewing on her fingernail as she weighed the pros and cons of her decision. She glanced at the white paper; a note that her friend Susie wrote her last night after Carla had fallen asleep, and left it on the kitchen counter for her to see when she came down for her morning brew. Carla was awoken by the sound of the garage opening and Susie's car speeding off to work at 8:00 a.m.; she found the note shortly after, next to the coffee machine.

Squeezing her eyes closed and taking a deep breath, she picked up her mobile and scanned her contact list until she reached the name she was dreading to see. Her thumb hovered over the name, before she pressed the call button.

"Hello?"

"Leanne? It's Carla." The blonde woman rolled her eyes. Just as she thought they were all moving on, here began the phone calls again. She took a deep breath and berated herself for being jealous, remembering what Carla had just been through with Frank. The fact that she flew to the States was evident of how much she was suffering.

"What's up? I thought you were in L.A.?"

"I am. Listen I need you to do me a favour." Her voice was shaky; _'is that fear?'_ Leanne thought.

She had only heard Carla's voice like that once before; when she began investigating her then husband Tony, and asked Leanne if she could stay at hers for the night…only she never turned up, having fled to L.A. in fear of her life. Dread set in and Leanne swallowed hard; despite the present circumstances, she and Carla had been through a lot together, and she knew when something was wrong.

"I've rung Michelle, the factory, and Maria's but no one is picking up! I'm running out of options 'ere."

"Carla, what's wrong? Has sommit 'appened?"

Carla closed her eyes and asked the three words she knew were going to cause a fight, "Is Peter there?"

Leanne's heart fluttered. "Why?"

"Please Leanne, I need to know," she drew in a shaky breath, "…is Peter there?"

"What did he leave me and come running for you, you mean?" She couldn't stop the bitterness as it came out of her mouth, "Was that why you ran off to L.A. then? You wanted Peter to come running after you? Why can't you just get it through your thick skull—"

"Shut up! Shut up, Leanne and listen to me alright!" She pleaded. Suddenly a window downstairs broke, and she let out a gasp as her body began shaking uncontrollably.

Leanne heard the gasp through the receiver, "Car? You alright?"

"Listen Leanne, I need you to please answer the question: Is Peter in Weatherfield?"

"Yeah," her voice too became shaky with worry, "he's in the pub with Ciaran right now. Why Carla what's going on?"

Carla picked up the landline on the bedside table, and shuffled further into the corner of the room, still clutching the mobile phone to her ear; her eyes transfixed on the crack on the bottom of the door. "Susie left me a note from last night, she said someone came to the door asking to see me, and she told him I was asleep; said his name was Peter Barlow."

Leanne's hand rose to cover her mouth.

Carla's eyes closed., tears filling behind her eyelids. She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Okay, I need you to call Becky. She's the only one who won't let on to others. Ask her if Frank has been at his factory."

"I can do one better than that Carla, I see her on the street! Stay on the line." Leanne stated as she ran around the Bookies counter and onto the cobbles after Becky, who was heading toward Roy's Rolls.

Carla eyes fluttered between the door and the landline in her hand; her mind was so clouded in fear and dread and she tried to remember what the number for the police was in the states…was it 9-9-9? 9-7-7? 9-1-1?

That was it, she dialed 9-1-1, "Police please" she stated to the operator, as she heard Leanne and Becky's voices through her mobile…

Leanne grabbed hold of Becky's arm,

"Oi!" the blonde stated defensively as she turned to face the person who apprehended her. She was met with a wide-eyed and panic-stricken Leanne, "steady on there Barlow! What you playin' at?"

"Becky, it's important! Look," Leanne swallowed and tried to catch her breath, "Was Frank in at work today?"

"Foster?" Becky asked confused, "No. No he's on a business trip to New York."

Leanne's eyes widened, "When did he leave?"

"Two days ago. You know it were a bit odd actually, didn't think he'd have access to his passport, you know, considerin'."

"No!" Leanne breathed before turning and running towards the pub,

"Carla! Lock the doors and ring the police!" she ordered into her mobile as she made her way to the Rovers, Becky hot on her heels, her curiosity piqued.

Carla wasn't responding. She watched as the light shining into the room from the crack at the bottom of the door was soon overshadowed with the dark outline of feet. She pressed her back further into the wall behind her as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? What is your emergency?" The voice on the landline repeated, but Carla just shook; paralyzed with fear. "We have identified your location; Officers have been dispatched. If you understand please acknowledge…" She quickly ended the call, knowing the police were on their way and hoping that the cut off might hasten their arrival.

The person on the other side of the door tried the door handle; upon realizing it was locked they added more force, shaking it and pushing against the door….

Leanne burst through the pub doors to see Ciaran, Michelle, Peter and Stella in a conversation at the bar.

"Love? What's wrong?" Stella inquired.

_…The banging on the other side of the door became more violent; it wouldn't take long before they knocked the door off its hinges. "no, no no…" Carla whispered as tears cascaded down her cheeks…_

"Lea?" Peter put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's Carla!"

"What about Carla?" Michelle asked harshly stepping forward.

Leanne took a breath still clutching her mobile to her ear, "Someone showed up to Susie's last night looking for her," she gulped some air into her lungs, "said their name was Peter Barlow,"

Peter's head darted around to look at Ciaran and Michelle before coming to rest on Leanne again, "you what?"

_…the door flung open and Carla's eyes met with those she wished to never see again…_

"I think it might have something to do with Frank," Becky interjected.

Leanne's face suddenly went white and the faint sound of a woman screaming could be heard through her mobile. Fear took hold of Michelle's heart and she snatched the phone from Leanne, putting it on loudspeaker. An unnatural quiet fell over the pub as they listened to the sounds emitting from the cell phone.

"Car? Car!" Michelle's eyes filled with tears. They heard grunts and the sounds of a struggle; a short scream emanated from Carla, before a dial tone kicked in. Michelle's hand covered her mouth as sobs escaped her. Ciaran placed both hands on her shoulders, looking at Peter who was staring at the phone in Michelle's hand; his hands on either side of his head. Leanne hugged her arms to her chest, as Becky wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

The regulars of the Rovers Return sat in eerie silence, each attempting to comprehend what they just witnessed…


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thank you all so very, very much for the kind reviews! **_

_**Enjoy! :)**_

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_**"Passion is a positive obsession. Obsession is a negative passion." **_

_**- Paul Carvel**_

He sat in the dimly lit hospital room; the scene bringing to mind waves of déjà vu. Just two months earlier he sat in a similar hospital room watching for any signs of life from his beautiful fiancée. This time she is his ex, his victim…but she is still beautiful, and now she is his.

He reaches out and strokes her cheek. Coming to the hospital was risky, but that head wound worried him.

He remembers opening the door to the bedroom, seeing her cowering in the corner; her body shaking violently as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her hair clung to her wet cheeks, her eyes wide with fear; her mobile dropping from her hand.

_Beautiful._

He remembers slowly moving towards her, watching as she tried desperately to retreat further into the wall behind her; wanting it to open and swallow her up. She was scared of him, and a piece of his heart broke. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She shouldn't be scared of him; she should be in love with him. But she would never love him, not as long as she loved Peter. He felt the rage boiling beneath his skin, and the need to punish her for not loving him temporarily healed his aching heart.

"Hello, Carla." He whispered. She must have realized that it wasn't one of her nightmares, and she screamed. He reached out with his gloved hands to grab her and she fought back against him.

She was weak; thinner than before. Most likely due from lack of nourishment and sleep, he thought. But she continued to fight him as if her life depended on it. He grunted as she thrashed against him and kicked him in the shin before losing her balance.

He remembered trying to grab her as she stumbled backwards. He remembered seeing her knees give out from under her, and the small scream that escaped her lips before the back of her head connected with the corner of the bedside table with a sickening thud. Her body turned on impact and the side of her body landed on her mobile, cracking the screen and ending the call to whoever she had on the line.

He remembered her eyes closing as she laid there in a heap on her side, and the panic that rose in his heart at the thought of losing her. He quickly grabbed the towel that hung off the back of the door and pressed it to her head before it had the chance to seep onto the floor. He carefully picked her up, and cradled her in his arms.

He moved carefully to the stairs and held her close as he descended them. He remembered opening the front door and quickly glancing outside for any possible onlookers. He carried her to the car, and fumbled with opening the door, careful not to drop his precious burden.

He remembered the faint sound of sirens as he placed her in the backseat.

He remembered driving like mad down the street and glancing in the rearview mirror to see the police cars pulling into the driveway of the now abandoned house.

He remembered breathing a sigh of relief.

He drove for an hour before finally pulling into a hospital in Orange County. He remembered calling for the help of the two male nurses. He remembered them pulling her out of the car, the seat now wet with her blood.

He remembered the triage nurse asking for her name, "Carla-" he paused, he couldn't give them her real last name, "-Gordon" he answered quickly.

After more questions, he watched as she was rolled into the operating room, tears filling his eyes.

_How did it come to this?_

He remembered the nervousness he felt as the operating doctor approached him in the waiting room as he nervously paced the corridor, and the relief that came over him when he was assured she would be okay. He remembered his hands reaching up to cradle his head as tears escaped his eyes…

_He hadn't lost her today_.

He remembered the feeling of anguish he felt as he entered the hospital room where she laid. He knew that when she woke up, she would scream and he would be caught. He moved over to her unconscious form, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, knowing it may be his last chance to do so.

He remembered moving the chair closer to the door so he could make a quick getaway when needed, but the angle was also better to see her.

It seemed like hours later when he finally saw her eyes flutter. He quickly went to the door, "Nurse!" he yelled, as a nurse and a doctor came running. He stood by the door as they approached her, his hand on the handle as if waiting for the inevitable.

"Miss Gordon?" The doctor leaned in gently to her. "Can you hear me?"

Carla's eyes flickered to the man leaning over her, a sudden sharp pain pulsated through her head and small starbursts clouded her vision.

"Hey, try not to move too much. You've given your head quite a blow. You're in the hospital right now, but I need to ask you a few questions, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice was hoarse.

"Do you know what year it is?"

"2011"

"Good." The doctor encouraged. "Do you know the month?"

"November?"

"That's right." the nurse furiously scribbled the information down as the doctor asked another question, "Do you know your name?"

Before she could answer she noticed the third person in the room, standing by the door. A wave of nausea fluttered to her stomach, but why she wasn't sure.

"No." her voice quivered, "Wh-why can't I remember my name?"

Frank's heart skipped a beat as he stepped forward. "Do you remember me?" he asked, still close enough to the door to bolt if necessary.

It took a moment for her to respond, "Should I?"

Frank's eyes met the doctor's as he was addressed, "Mr. Barlow may I see you outside for a moment?"

Frank glanced back to the woman in the bed, giving her a reassuring smile before following the doctor out.

"Mr. Barlow, it seems that she might be suffering from post-traumatic amnesia."

Frank lowered his eyes to the floor and bit his lip. "And the effects?"

"It generally occurs after a head injury of this magnitude, but the effects are often transient, maybe lasting a few days to a few months. In rare cases it could be permanent, depending on the damage and if the patient is subconsciously repressing memories due to a traumatic episode."

"When can I take her home?"

"We'd like to keep an eye on her for the next couple of hours to ensure there are no further signs of concussion, and we should be getting the results of her brain scan back shortly. If all is well she can be discharged within the next few hours."

"Okay, umm-" Frank put his hands on his hips, "I'm going to go and book a hotel for the night, and I'll be back in an hour or so. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask for a favour." He leaned in close to the doctor, "the result of this accident was due to a fight she had with an ex-boyfriend. I don't want him to find her, so is there anyway we could keep all information pertaining to Miss Gordon strictly confidential?"

"You mean, act as if she is not here?" the doctor questioned.

"More or less."

"I'll see what I can do." The doctor walked back into the room, as Frank looked on through the glass at Carla.

He smiled to himself before walking down the corridor.

He couldn't believe his luck.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter sat next to Leanne in a booth as she finished explaining the series of events. DC Malone sat across from them with a junior officer to her left.

"So just to clarify, Miss Connor called the Bookies?"

"No, she called my mobile." Leanne stated, not missing the inquisitive glance the detective gave her husband. "Hey!" she snapped to draw Malone's attention back to her, "I said it were _my_ mobile she called. If she wanted to talk directly to Peter she would have called him herself."

At this statement Peter's heart sank. _'Why didn't she call me?'_ He dropped his head in his hands as realization dawned on him, _'she's trying to keep her distance from me… God this is such a mess!'_

Maria and Kirk walked into the unusually quiet pub. "What's going on?" She asked Stella, who just gestured to the booth where her daughter and son-in-law were sat.

"Problem, Mr. Barlow?" DC Malone prodded. Peter lifted his head and stared into her eyes before leaning back against the cushions on the booth. Rage was boiling beneath his calm surface, but Ciaran noticed the flexing of his fists as he spoke.

"No, no, why would there be a problem? Our –" he pointed to those around him, "-friend Carla, you remember her? The rape victim? Was being tormented by her attacker since she filed the complaint against him. From the word 'go', you lot believed his lies and his little innocent act. It didn't matter that he threatened her two days after he was released on bail the first time; No no, he then gets released _again_, and decides that since he can't see her and torture him himself-" he leaned forward, his finger pointedly tapping the table as he spoke. Leanne's eyes darted between the officers and her husband as she laid her hand on his arm in a comforting manner.

"…he decides to use his mother as a proxy so that he can continue to harass Carla into dropping the charges against him."

"Mr. Barlow, he was in his rights to use a proxy when it came to the business. In the eyes of the law he is innocent until proven guilty. If Mrs. Foster was indeed harassing Miss Connor she needed only pick up the phone to us."

"Why, so you could _'protect' _her the way you did the first time? You know this justice system you speak of is a farce. It is a sad state when an 'alleged' rapist gets more rights than his victim. Do you know that she was considering dropping the charges? Hmm? Just so she could get on with her life? Her sister-in-law here," he pointed to Michelle, who was sat at the bar, mascara running down her face, "-convinced her to go to L.A. so she could clear her mind. Sort out her thoughts without having to worry about bumping into him on every corner. And what happens? He follows her to L.A.-"

"He what?" Maria interrupted as she came to stand next to him.

"Yeah Maria," Peter stated as he leaned back again, "Frank Foster has flown-"

"-allegedly flown." Malone corrected him.

Peter banged his fist on the table, "it is not allegedly!" he snapped through gritted teeth.

"Peter please, calm down! You won't be any help to Carla if you give yourself a heart attack." Leanne begged him as she stroked his arm comfortingly, tears filling her eyes. The passion behind her husband's concern for Carla making itself clearly known, and it broke her heart to witness it…but Carla's life was hanging in the balance and her jealousy over their relationship would only make matters far worse than they already were.

"How has he been allowed to leave the country, didn't you take his passport?" Maria's voice was now high-pitched with fear.

"His passport was confiscated as part of his bail conditions-" Malone began but was interrupted by Maria who had now stepped towards her placing her hands on the table and leaning in close so their faces were almost touching.

"I warned you!" Maria stated through gritted teeth, her face contorting in anger, "I warned you he would pull a stunt like this! The man is a _rapist_…he doesn't care about her personal space or the law!"

DC Malone stood up, "We are treating this very seriously. This case is now my top priority." Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, but she continued, "Look, I know tensions are high right now, so if you can think of anything else please contact me. Miss Connor?" She looked at Michelle, "I'll need the name, address, and phone number of Miss Connor's friend in L.A. please. I'll need to contact the precinct in her area immediately."

"Yeah, of course, here I'll come outside." Michelle sniffled and headed towards the doors.

"I'll be in touch." Malone stated to Peter, Leanne and Maria before following Michelle out. Maria sank into the seat across from Peter, as Ciaran came to stand next to her.

"How the 'ell did this happen? How the 'ell did he get out of the country?" Maria asked.

"Michelle is just devastated." Ciaran said shaking his head. "She convinced her to go to the States in the first place and now…" he trailed off.

"What 'appened exactly?" Maria inquired. Leanne began to fill her in. After some time, Peter got up and walked to the bar, Ciaran following him.

Gary Windass moved to stand next to Peter, "Hey mate? Listen, what part of L.A. was Carla visiting?" At Peter's inquisitive look he continued, "Only I have some army mates from the U.S. that live there. I might be able to get them to keep an eye out or sommit?"

Peter's crossed his arms, and leaned in close to Gary, "You have friends in L.A.?" he whispered.

Gary nodded as he also crossed his arms and leaned in closer to Peter, "Yeah."

The wheels that began turning in Peter's head were interrupted when he saw Michelle coming back into the pub, fresh tears and sobs wracking her body. Maria stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "What's 'appened 'Chelle?" She asked, the horror evident in her voice.

Michelle's voice quivered, "Su-Susie answered the phone, she was surrounded by coppers. Sh-She said that Carla's not there. The window in the kitchen was broken, and the door to her bedroom was force-forcefully entered into, her mobile 'as been smashed. There is no sign of her…DC Malone is talking to the lead detective on the scene!" Michelle furiously wiped the tears from her face.

Malone re-entered the pub, and stood beside Michelle. "I've just spoken to a Detective Brigatta of the L.A.P.D. They will be running tests on Miss Connor's phone and they are sweeping the house for fingerprints. A witness has stepped forward; a gardener who claims to have seen a man resembling Mr. Foster's description carrying an unconscious female, resembling Miss Connor's description, to a car and speeding away. He has been taken to the station for further questioning, and I'm heading back to email the precinct a photo of Mr. Foster." She looked down for a moment before continuing, "However, I should also warn you, that they found blood." Leanne felt the blood drain from her face as she stood on the other side of Michelle who was beyond pale herself. "Small traces," Malone continued, "on the bedside table and more trailing down the stairs and out the door."

At this Michelle suddenly collapsed to the floor, "Oh, God no!" she sobbed as Maria crouched beside her and pulled her head to rest on her shoulder.

"I am very sorry, but I will keep you posted when I have more news." DC Malone stated and she turned and walked out of the pub.

Peter suddenly turned back to Gary, "I need the names of your friends,"

"Why Peter?" Ciaran asked.

"'Cause I'm going to L.A." Peter responded. Leanne's eyes widened in fear and shock, unable to say a word.

"I'm coming with you." Ciaran said.

"Same 'ere!" Gary joined.

Peter looked at him inquisitively. "Why you?" he asked.

Gary gave a smile, "Because my soldier status will get you through border control a lot quicker than without me. And yeah, I know you two were Navy blokes, but my status is still current...Plus I'm an extra set of hands to ensure Frank Foster gets his comeuppance."

Peter and Ciaran looked at each other and nodded in agreement, "Let's get a move on then." Ciaran stated.

"Go pack a bag each, and we'll meet back here in thirty minutes. I've got to see to Simon." Peter stated as he made his way to the doors.

"Peter…" Michelle's voice was small, but her grip on his arm was firm; he leaned down to her, "You bring her back. I've lost too many people special to me…I can't lose her an' all," her voice suddenly became strong as her eyes burned with a fire peter had never seen before, "so you bring her back to me, you hear?"

Peter cupped her cheek reassuringly before purposefully walking out of the pub.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews, I am completely overwhelmed by your kindness! I'm hoping to respond to each of you shortly, but I really wanted to pump out this chapter. **_

_**Hope you enjoy! **_

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"Peter this is madness!" Leanne said to him upon returning to their flat, having dropped Simon off at Ken and Deirdre's for the night.

"Lea," Peter sighed as he turned to face her, "try to understand; we have a better chance of catching him if we go now."

"Why does it have to be you Peter? Leave it to the professionals!"

"The professionals? The _professionals_, Leanne? The ones who let him slip through their fingers in the first place? The ones who are still convinced she's making it up? You saw Malone's face when you said Carla called you. She still thinks it has something to do with me and her and this ridiculous story Frank has spun about us trying to set him up!"

"And does it?" Leanne shouted, the words escaping her mouth before she could think. Realizing her mistake she brought both hands to her mouth.

He looked incredulously at her, "Oh I don't believe this!" he stated grabbing his packed duffel bag and furiously zipping it closed. He paused and faced her again, "You are really showing me your true colours Lea and it ain't pretty!"

"I didn't mean that-"

"Yes you did. You are incredibly hypocritical do you know that?" he began walking towards her, anger fueling his steps, "You stand there and turn down your nose at Carla for having feelings for me when you had an affair with your ex! I didn't have the affair Lea, you did. And this whole mess, this whole bloody mess is down to that!" He turned back to his bag.

Leanne collapsed on the arm of the sofa. "What are you saying Peter?"

"That this never would have happened if I had just followed my gut!" he spun to face her, his arms flying out beside him, "I never forgave you for the affair! I took you back for Simon's sake, and I tried to get past it. I tried to move on, but I can't. And I had feelings for Carla, and I just pushed them down and buried them; I didn't even see her after the blessing fiasco until June…_June_, Leanne. And you sat there on your moral high horse, treating her like a piece of scum, and I blindly supported you. I pushed her back and I fought my feelings for her again. I wanted this marriage to work so much for Simon's sake that I pushed her towards Frank; thinking that if she got married to him that all our problems would be solved…I pushed her into agreeing to marry him when she wasn't ready; do you not get it Leanne? He raped her because of me." His eyes filled with tears at his revelation. "He raped her because of me." He repeated in a low whisper.

Leanne sat, eyes brimming with tears. She should be furious at his confession over his feelings for Carla, but all she could feel was guilt; Guilt for her part in Carla's attack. Guilt for him feeling guilty. Maybe had she trusted Peter around her, Carla would have moved on normally. Maybe she would have forgiven her and she would have been her shoulder to cry on when her mother died, not Frank.

"Don't you see Lea, I have to go to L.A., I have to right this wrong. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her again and I just sat here twiddling my thumbs."

"And what happens when you get back?" she choked through her tears.

Peter sighed, he had to be honest, "I don't know Leanne. This," he pointed back and forth between them, "this isn't working and it wasn't before this attack on Carla. It wasn't working before June. I think you know that deep down. I think we've been pushing forward for Simon's sake, and it isn't fair on any of us."

Leanne stared at a spot on the floor; she had to agree with him though it broke her heart to do so. They had more problems than not in their tumultuous relationship. Their one shining beacon was Simon. She closed her eyes and the tears cascaded down her cheeks, he would be devastated when he found out.

Peter knelt in front of Leanne, placing a hand under her chin until she opened her eyes and looked at him, "We can't do this right now Lea. Right now I have to get to L.A. before Frank does something we may not be able to fix. But while I'm gone you have to think…I mean really think Leanne…what do _you_ want? Not what Simon wants…you! And I'm going to do the same. And when I come back, we'll decide what is best, okay?"

She nodded before standing up and enveloping him in a hug. "Be careful!"

"I will." He stated as he pulled her into a tighter embrace and kissed her cheek. She pulled away and walked into the bedroom, as tears gushed down her face, closing the door behind her.

Peter stared at the bedroom door for a long moment, before grabbing his passport and the duffel bag and left the flat.

Gary and Ciaran were waiting outside the pub, along with Michelle, Maria and Kirk.

"I sent me mates a picture of Carla, and a photo of Frank I found off the web. They live in a city of Orange County called Seal Beach about an hour or so from where Carla's friend Susie is. It'll be a good place for us to base ourselves out of…high military population that kind of thing. I told them I'd text them when we landed so they could meet us at the airport." Gary informed him as Steve pulled up in a taxi.

As they said their goodbyes, and filed into the cab, Peter glanced once more at the Bookies and the woman that now stood in front of its door. He gave her a smile and a wink, before climbing into the cab himself.

As the cab drove off, Leanne sighed and walked over to Michelle and Maria.

"I never should have convinced her to go," Michelle sobbed, "I'll never forgive meself if he hurts her again." Maria pulled her into a hug, and Leanne laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Peter will find her, 'Chelle." She assured her, "And when he brings her home, we'll all be there to help her through this, and to make sure Frank is brought to justice."

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Dennis and Marcus sat in a bar in Seal Beach. Enlarged photos of a smiling, dark-haired woman strewn across the table next to their pitcher of beer. Another set of enlarged photos, these of a man, stationed on the other side of their pitcher.

"She's fit, I tell you." Marcus said looking at the photo of the woman and taking a sip of his beer, "I can see why he won't give her up that easily."

"Doesn't excuse what he did though." Dennis retorted popping a nacho into his mouth.

"Well, of course not. But he must love her, in his own sick way, to follow her out here? Risking going to prison for jumping the country?" Marcus shook his head, "He's got balls I tell you."

"Well when Windass gets here we'll be sure to start hitting up the hospitals; if she got injured there's a chance he may have taken her to one to check her out." Dennis stated.

"Do you really think he'd risk taking her to a hospital?" Marcus shook his head, "Nah man. He's probably hid up in some seedy motel, trying to keep a low profile."

"Yeah, and we'll be hitting those too. Who knows how far he's gotten too by now. He won't be heading to the borders, too risky. The police would have sent his photo to the FBI by now." Dennis grabbed another nacho, "nah, he'll be staying somewhere in the general vicinity, you mark my words." He looked to the door and gave a nod to acknowledge the two men that just entered the bar. "James and Phil are here." As the two men approached the table, Marcus and Dennis stood up and clasped forearms with their friends.

"Ahhh the life of the off-duty soldier eh James?" Phil joked as he went to the bar to order two more pitchers of beer.

"You're telling me man." James laughed. "Either at the beach or at the bar while the rest of us gotta work 12 hour shifts!"

"Yeah yeah, I'll remember that the next time I'm dodging bullets in Afghanistan douchebag!" Marcus laughed as he sat back in the booth. "So how is life at the hospital treating you two?"

"Ahh not too bad I guess. If I don't see another pregnant woman screaming bloody murder as she's wheeled into the hospital it won't be too soon!" James said as he took off his jacket.

Phil walked back over from the bar and removed his jacket before sliding into the booth, "yeah but there was this one couple today, phew the blood man! My scrubs are destroyed! The girl, dead gorgeous I might add, had this bad head wound-hey!" he grabbed the photo, "that's her…and that's the guy!" he grabbed the other.

"Yeah so it is!" James agreed as he picked up the photos, "Why do you have pictures of them?"

"Wait! This woman? You saw this woman at the hospital today?" Marcus demanded holding up the picture and pointing to it.

"Yeah man, that's her! She was unconscious and the guy was beside himself, but that's her!" James confirmed. Dennis and Marcus exchanged glances. "What?" James asked.

"Guys, why do you have photos of these two?" Phil asked them pointedly.

"A British soldier we met in Afghanistan, him and two guys are flying out here as we speak to look for her. Apparently this guy," Dennis held up the photo, "was engaged to her, but she broke it off the night before the wedding."

"Ouch!" James winced.

"Yeah, so he raped her."

"Come again?" Phil asked

"Yeah, raped her. He was released on bail, and long story short she came out here to clear her mind, and he followed her out here."

"Don't they confiscate your passport after you've been arrested and charged with a felony? How did he fly out?" James asked.

"That's what everyone wants to know." Marcus interjected

"Wait…is she still there?" Dennis asked suddenly.

"I dunno, our shift ended a couple hours ago." Phil said.

Dennis and Marcus exchanged a look before dropping money on the table and bolting for the door, Phil and James hot on their heels.

* * *

"Is Dr. Gregory still in Louise?" James asked the ER nurse. She looked at him and his entourage, all sweating and panting as if they had just run a mile.

"No, he left hours ago." She said. Dennis angrily kicked the wall and Marcus threw his head back and let out a sigh of frustration.

"Okay, Louise I need you to do me a favour," Phil said as he led her to the computer, "I need you to check on that patient that came in today, you know the British woman? Head wound? She still here?"

Louise furiously typed on the keyboard, "you know I can get into a lot of trouble for thi-"

"It's important Louise, hurry up!" Phil snapped.

"Carla Gordon – ten stitches, moderate concussion, brain scan negative, diagnosed with Post-traumatic amnesia. –" Louise read

"Amnesia?" Dennis repeated.

Louise continued "-Says she was discharged three hours ago into the care of her fiancée Peter Barlow."

Phil closed his eyes and bowed his head. Dennis and Marcus looked at each other,

"Shit." they uttered together.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks everyone again for the kind reviews! I may have another chapter ready for uploading tonight, but no promises :)**_

_**Enjoy and as always reviews are most appreciated!**_

* * *

Her eyes flickered open as the sun poured in from the slightly pulled back curtains. She blinked her heavy eyelids trying to adjust her vision, as she took in her surroundings. She was in what appeared to be a hotel room, in a plush king-sized bed. She could hear the TV on in the adjoining room and could hear a man's voice speaking, followed by another male voice. She turned her head slowly, hissing slightly as a sudden ache throbbed through her head. The room had multiple vases full of flowers and on the pillow next to her, on the side of the bed that remained un-slept in, was a single bloom of the same flower that filled the vases; a white freesia.

'_Freesia'_ her mind raced, _'why is that so familiar?'_ Her thoughts were interrupted as two men walked through the door to the adjoining room.

"Ah, you're awake Miss Gordon, hope we didn't disturb you?" said the taller and older of the two men.

"No, no it were the sunlight actually," she said quietly. Her voice was hoarse and when she swallowed it felt like sandpaper. She closed her eyes in confusion and shook her head softly as she asked, "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

"No, Miss Gordon. This is the first time we have met. I'm Dr. Martin, and I'm the on-site doctor here at the Palisades Resort. I came by at the request of your fiancée to check on your progress." He gestured to the bed, "May I?" At her small nod, he sat down next to her and flashed a light in her eyes. "Well your eyes are fine. I'm just going to reach around and check the stitches." He carefully sat her up straight as he shifted to sit behind her. He slowly unwrapped the gauze and carefully moved her hair. "Ahh it was more of a superficial wound, they didn't have to shave your hair to stitch you up. But you will have to avoid washing your hair for a few days I'm afraid."

"When will they come out?" she asked.

"I would say in a few days. Like I said it was a superficial wound mostly; there was quite a bit of blood but that's a combination of both where the wound is and how long it took for you to get to the hospital, as opposed to it being because of the depth of the wound. But you gave yourself quite a hit there. It's no wonder you're having some trouble remembering things." He said, and she noted the kindness in his voice. "Any pain?" he asked as he stood up and helped her to lay back.

"Oh, just a…lot." She replied a bit surprised at her humour. The doctor gave a small laugh.

"I'll prescribe you some painkillers to take for the next couple of days." He turned to look at the other man in the room, the one she recognized from the hospital. "You can fill it at the pharmacy in the main lobby, Mr. Barlow."

'_Barlow'_, she thought. _'Why is that name familiar?'_ The doctor watched her as confusion spread across her features.

"Miss Gordon, I want you to think of your mind like an elastic band. It is incredibly pliable, but if you add too much force, it simply" he snapped his fingers "snaps. I am under the belief that post-traumatic amnesia is the body's way of trying to heal itself. It makes a clean slate if you will of the mind so that it is able to repair the damage sustained to it. Once it has achieved this, your memory will come back."

She nodded her agreement, though the thought of simply "waiting" for her memory to come back frustrated her to no end.

"Type A personality Miss Gordon?" the doctor seemed to read her thoughts.

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one." Frank stated with a smirk, and the doctor chuckled.

"If all goes well, you'll begin to remember things in pieces; déjà vu may set in; little things could trigger a memory, and then one day it could just all come flooding back. Just try not to force them to come quicker because you may prolong the amnesia further. Doctor's orders!"

She nodded her agreement as a frown graced her face. "I'll be back to check on you tomorrow." Dr. Martin stated and he reached out and touched her shoulder, feeling her flinch beneath him. He curiously rose an eyebrow at the movement.

"I'll see you out." Frank stated. The doctor gave Carla's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and a wink before getting up to follow Frank.

"Has Miss Gordon experienced any type of traumatic experience recently?" Dr. Martin asked Frank, filling out the prescription pad, as they stood at the door.

Frank looked uncomfortable for a moment, before he placed his hands in his pockets. "Yes, yes she has." He swiveled his body to look back to where Carla was on the bed, before turning back to the doctor, his voice low so she couldn't hear. "She was attacked a few months ago, you know…_attacked_."

The doctor nodded his understanding, "well it's possible that this bout of amnesia is her subconsciously trying to repress those memories. I recommend you keep her as comfortable as possible, and ummm, maybe refrain from anything _intimate-wise_ that may trigger memories of the assault, if you know what I mean, don't grasp the wrists, try not to be too aggressive for lack of a better word. Her current state is quite fragile, and doing so could cause further irreparable damage." Frank nodded his agreement as he opened the door for the doctor.

"Oh Doctor?" He asked as Dr. Martin stepped into the hallway, "How did you know she had a traumatic experience?"

"She flinched, Mr. Barlow. There was no rhyme or reason why as she was fine with me before, but she flinched…and it was involuntary." Frank looked down to hide his apprehension; a move that did not go unnoticed by the doctor. "Keep me posted should there be a sudden change in her demeanor." He looked inquisitively at Frank, before walking away.

Frank closed the door, and stood there for a moment, before he finally turned back and walked to Carla who was attempting to get out of bed,

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey there Cinderella, where do you think you're going?" he carefully placed his hands around her shoulders and began easing her back down onto the bed.

_'Cinderella'_ her mind raced as images flashed before her eyes.

"_I'm sure it is, but that's okay I'll get a hotel thank you." Her feet were unsteady as she pushed herself away from the pole behind her and walked away from the man in front of her. She didn't get far before his hands grasped her upper arms and began pulling her back._

"_Yeah a hotel, complete with a hotel bar, just what you need right now" the sarcasm evident in his voice along with worry._

"_Oh fine whatever." She relented, unable to shrug him off and too dizzy to figure out which direction was where she wanted to go._

"_Let's just umm, park yourself on this bench – "_

"_Easy" she squeaked, his grasp a little tight on her arms,_

"_-right here Cinderella, and I will get the car. Just stay there." His voice took on a more gentle tone, "Carla, just stay there will you?"_

"_mmm I'll stay here." She repeated as she swayed._

"Carla?" his voice snapped her out of her flashback. He was now crouched in front of her a look of worry washed over his features as her eyes finally met his.

"You've called me that before." She whispered, her voice shaky and he berated himself for being careless but quickly came up with a reply.

"That's right. That was my pet name for you." He laughed. "I forgot that you don't like it much, I'll try to remember not to call you that in the future."

"No umm it's okay." She gave him a small smile and his heart fluttered. He hadn't seen her smile at him like that since before their engagement party.

"Look let's get you back into bed, and let's order you up some breakfast okay?" he smiled at her.

"Okay." She agreed. He lifted her feet and helped her to swivel around, before placing the blankets back over her. When she was settled he ran his hand over her hair, leaned in and kissed the top of her head. He moved away from her briefly before handing her the remote for the TV. After she accepted it, he moved to the desk where he picked up the phone to order them both breakfast.

Holding the phone to his ear, he turned slightly and looked at her as she mindlessly surfed through the channels and smiled to himself.

She was his again.


	6. Chapter 6

"Any news yet 'Chelle?" Becky asked as she slumped into the booth at the Rovers beside Maria.

Michelle was pale, having not slept the night before; makeup did not grace her features and the puffiness around her eyes made it was obvious she had been crying. "The boys got the red-eye to New York last night. They had to wait for a connecting flight from there but they should be arriving in L.A. shortly." Michelle took a sip of wine. "There's been no news from DC Malone or Susie yet."

"Look, I don't want to sound like I'm defending him cause I'm not," Leanne started, "but I don't think Frank is going to try to, you know, kill her. I think he loves her in a twisted way really."

"So what do you think he wants with her then?" Becky asked her eyebrow raising.

"I think he wants _her_. I mean the way he proposed so quick, and planned the wedding, and went to buy a house…it's like he wanted this picture perfect life with her."

"Tony wanted that an' all with her too." Maria interjected. "He nearly got it too until he started to slip up. You know one night following the rape, Carla and I really opened up to each other about the whole Tony mess. She said that just before he confessed that he had Liam killed, he told her he would never hurt a hair on her head. He may have believed that at the time, but she didn't, and that's why she fled to L.A.; Looks like her gut was right, eh?" Maria took a sip of her drink.

"And her gut was right about Frank an' all." Michelle said sadly. "The night of their engagement dinner with his parents, she said he was getting really controlling….almost suffocating her with his plans of having kids and so on…she started to panic and she started kickin' back the booze. He got rough with her, dragging her over to have a 'word'. She said the look in his eyes scared her that night. And all she wanted was to get away from him as fast as she could."

Leanne was silent listening to this new revelation. '_That's why she got in the car to drive away,'_ she realized, _'she was scared of him. Not that that excuses her nearly killing someone,' _Leanne thought, but it gave her a better understanding of what had happened. Carla didn't just get into the car to drive because she was a selfish drunk; she did it because she was terrified. A new wave of guilt washed over her, remembering the horrible things she said to Carla the night the broken woman tried to kill herself.

"Sounds like her gut is just a little slow to voice its concerns." Becky said quietly.

Their thoughts were interrupted by Frank's workforce entering the pub led by Sally.

"Great job today girls! Mr. Foster will be thrilled when he comes back." Her voice irritatingly high. She looked over and saw Becky.

"Uhh excuse me lady, and just where were you today?" she inquired as she stood in front of her, pointedly ignoring the other three in the booth.

Becky swiveled slightly to face her, bending her knee and drawing her foot underneath her. "Oh that, yeah, here's the thing Sal: I uhhh ignored my principles and decided to work for an alleged rapist because I really needed the job you see, but ummm I just can't really shake me morals when that same rapist follows his victim to L.A. and attacks her again. So uh, yeah I resign." She said as she shrugged.

"Oh and you're just going to find another job that easily eh?" Sally pestered.

"Oh she doesn't need to love, she's coming back to work for Underworld as a machinist." Michelle said bluntly, her anger rising to fever pitch.

"Well Underworld is gonna need all the help they can get, because Frank's company is going to shut Carla's down, and then he'll shut her down in court an' all." Sally said as she smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

Kevin, who was standing near the bar interjected, "Sal, just drop it eh?"

"Why should I?" Sally stated. "Carla is a liar. A hard faced cow, who uses men and spits them out whenever it suits her to do so…"

"I'm warning you Webster…" Michelle warned her.

"Well ask Maria! It wasn't so long ago that you couldn't stand the sight of her." Sally stated as the punters began quieting their voices to listen.

"Don't forget your role in that drama Sally." Maria warned. "And Carla and I put that behind us. I may not have agreed with what she did but she loved Liam, and he loved her an' all. He loved us both and we both loved him and that is stronger than whatever poison you try to spur on between us."

"Look will someone get 'er outta my face before I do sommit _she'll _regret?" Michelle ground out, her eyes closing and raising her hand as if readying it to backhand Sally.

"What? You'll take me to court for telling the truth?" Sally sniped, "Oh no wait that's more your sister-in-law's style isn't it."

"That's it!" Michelle yelled as she pushed herself out of her seated position. Her arm began to swing in Sally's direction but Becky and Leanne grabbed hold of her, while Kevin grabbed Sally angrily and spun her around to face him.

"She's not worth it love." Becky said reassuringly to Michelle, who was fuming and staring daggers into the back of Sally's head as she shrugged Kevins' hand off of her.

"What Kevin?"

"Listen to me Sal! Frank followed Carla out to L.A. and he's attacked her again. We all heard the struggle on Leanne's mobile before the line went dead. No one knows where she is so just keep your bloody mouth shut!" Kevin ground out.

"That's impossible," Sally retorted, "Frank is in New York on a business trip."

"He's been charged with rape Sally!" Maria's voice boomed from behind her.

"And he was released on bail." Sally snapped back.

"Yeah, on _bail_. What happens to someone's traveling privileges when they've been charged with a felony Sally?" Michelle asked as she angrily strode towards her. Realization dawned seemed to dawn on the blonde, as Michelle's face leaned in close to hers, "you really are a stupid old cow." Michelle stated through gritted teeth, then moved to sit back down in the booth, leaving an embarrassed Sally in her wake.

"Here's what I don't understand," Norris asked no one in particular. "How did Frank know Carla went to L.A.?"

"Oh no," Eileen whispered at the bar as she buried her head in her hands.

"What?" Leanne asked.

"Lloyd overheard you Michelle, talking to Peter and Ciaran about it here at the pub." Eileen said quietly, the guilt evident in her voice, "He mentioned it to me in passing, and I mentioned it to Becky and Beth at the factory. Frank must've overheard. God, Michelle I am so sorry."

Michelle grabbed her purse and stood up, coming face to face with Eileen. "Well…at least now you'll have some more gossip to discuss won't you?" she spat maliciously, "Maybe you can all take bets on where he plans to dump her body!" Her voice choked as tears streamed down her cheeks, and she stormed out of the pub, Maria hot on her heels.

"Oi, Webster!" Becky called as she rose from the booth with Leanne. Sally turned to look at her, "You know life will continue to present you with many a opportunity in which to keep your mouth shut…maybe you should start taking advantage of 'em eh?"

When Sally failed to reply, Becky leaned in and lightly slapped her cheek twice, "There's a good girl!" And she and Leanne walked out of the Rovers.

* * *

Peter, Ciaran and Gary sat across the table at the diner from Dennis and Marcus; photos of Carla and Frank sprawled on one side, and a map of Orange County, with several red and green dots littering its surface, spread in the centre of the table.

"So once we discovered she was at this hospital, we started checking the surrounding motels." Marcus explained as he pointed to the red dots. "He used the names 'Barlow' and 'Gordon', so we checked with the staff at the motels and showed them the pictures but with no luck. Each red dot represents places we've checked. The green dots represent the places we need to check."

"So why did he use your name Peter?" Dennis asked, eyeballing the man who sat biting his fingernails and anxiously drinking his coffee.

"'Cause she's my mate. He knows we're close, and I would be someone she would come down to see if she thought I was there; and hey, he couldn't very well use his name now could he?" Peter snapped.

Dennis puts his hands up in mock surrender, "Hey easy man. I just like to know the full scoop before getting in deep into a love triangle, or square as it would be."

"A what?" Peter scoffed.

"Oh come on. It's as plain as the nose on your face! She's in love with you, he finds out, wants to punish her, he rapes her, then he follows her out here and uses your name knowing she'd want to see _you_." Dennis sat back smugly.

"Got it all figured out don't you?" Peter gritted out.

"Yup, and I'll tell you what else I figured out," Dennis leant forward onto his elbows, "you're in love with her and all!"

"Really?" Peter challenged.

"Yes, sir." He lowered his voice, "I know, okay? I know what its like to be in love with a woman who's not your girlfriend, or your wife in your case. I can see it in your eyes, and in the way you keep looking at her picture; I can see it in your antsy movements, I can see your uneasiness behind the relaxed façade." Peter's mouth formed a tight line, unable to come back with a quip. "The problem is, he sees it too. And he'll use it against you, whenever you should make your appearance." Dennis leaned back again.

"Yeah, alright I admit it. I care about her very much, and I would do anything to get her back safe and sound," he acknowledged quietly as he fiddled with his coffee mug, "the question is are you going to help me find her?"

"Was never a question in my mind mate," Dennis said as he reached out his hand, Peter gave a derisive chuckle and shook the outstretched hand. "But you need to hide those feelings man, or I guarantee you he will use it against you…and win."

Ciaran leaned in to Gary an whispered, "Did you know?"

The redhead smirked, "I had my suspicions."

"So am I just daft?" Ciaran exclaimed.

"Nah mate, you've just been too wrapped up in your own love life to notice the subtleties." Gary said lightly punching Ciaran in the shoulder.

"So these green dots, are they all motels?" Peter asked getting the subject back on point

"Yeah, we figured he would want to keep a low profile, and motels are usually good for that." Marcus stated.

"Yeah, but you don't know this bloke. He's got cheek, and dosh. He'll hole up in a ritzy place and be able to talk his way out of a police lineup. But what I don't understand is how Carla hasn't screamed bloody murder yet? I refuse to believe that she's just given up!" Peter furiously rubbed his brow.

Dennis and Marcus exchanged a glance, before Marcus spoke up, "Umm we were gonna broach that subject eventually. See ummm" he took a deep breath, "she hasn't quite given up…she's got amnesia."

"What?" Peter breathed out disbelievingly.

"Post-traumatic amnesia." Dennis continued. "It's believed to be temporary, unless she is subconsciously trying to repress something traumatic…like a rape for instance."

"So what you're saying is that she is with Frank now of her own free will…because she can't remember who she is?" Ciaran asked

"More importantly, she can't remember who _he_ is. Apparently she was discharged into her _fiancée's _care." Marcus responded. "The good news is, while she doesn't remember anything, he is going to be trying his hardest to not spark that memory back. According to James and Phil, he was beside himself in the hospital with worry that she might die. The guy is twisted, but he loves her."

Gary spoke up, "all the more reason for him to lay on the romance in a posh hotel and not in a seedy motel. He won't want to draw suspicion from her, and memory or no memory, that Carla is a smart one; she will figure out what he's hiding. Let's just hope we find her before she figures it out."

Peter had blocked out the conversation around him, simply staring at the photo of her; her perfect smile; so happy and carefree; he absentmindedly stroked her image's cheek.

_'I will find you Carla! I promise I won't let him hurt you again...' _


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:Thank you everyone for the kind reviews!**_

_**Sorry for the delay! :)**_

_**Hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!**_

* * *

The knock at the door startled her out of her dreamless sleep. Her eyes fluttered open in time to hear Frank open the door and a man wheel in a cart with their breakfast order.

"Thank you my good man." Frank said as he slipped him a tip. He turned to face Carla, "Alright now you get yourself comfortable and I'll bring you a plate."

"No," she started, her voice still hoarse, "I'd prefer to sit at the table if that's okay? I'm getting a little antsy staying in bed all this time."

Frank gave a chuckle, "I see you haven't lost your impatient nature. Here let me help you over." He moved to stand next to her, reaching an arm around her back and under her far arm; his fingers grazing the side of her breast before resting on her rib cage. His other arm threw the blankets off her small frame before coming to rest on her shoulder. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and leaned into him as he helped her to a standing position.

Her head was close to his, and she suddenly felt her stomach turn. Her eyes flitted up and gazed at the man next to her. She wasn't sure why her stomach kept flipping whenever he touched her or looked deeply into her eyes. His eyes moved to look at her and she quickly looked away before they could meet, and she continued walking towards the table, leaning into him slightly when she felt herself becoming dizzy.

His fingers gently massaged her shoulder as he helped her to sit down, before gently laying a kiss on top of her head. She felt a shudder course involuntarily through her body.

Something about him was definitely off…

"I figured since it was more lunch than breakfast that I'd order a mix of both."

"Most people call that brunch, Peter." She quipped as he poured her a glass of orange juice.

"Frank, please." He corrected her. It was an involuntary response and he chastised himself for making the mistake. But the thought of her calling him by her lover's name caused his anger to rise within him. He couldn't risk lashing out; not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"I'm sorry, but the nurse specifically said your name was Peter as I was being discharged." She raised her eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes I'm sorry about the confusion, but I had to lie about my name."

Her curiosity was piqued. "And why would you do that?"

"I wanted to ensure your ex-boyfriend wouldn't find you if he came looking. So I used the first one that popped into my head. Here, allow me to introduce myself again my dear, I'm Frank Foster, your doting fiancée." He stuck out his hand for her to shake and flashed her a winning smile.

'_Foster…'_ her mind raced trying to place the name. She tentatively shook his outstretched hand.

"Carla, apparently." He chuckled at her dry humor.

"Here you are," he stated handing her a plate of food and observing her. Even after the events of the past two days, her beauty seemed to light up the room. Her hair was unkempt, and a slight tan kissed her skin. Even in her disheveled state, she managed to stir his longing for her, and he felt his desire for her growing. He sat across from her and smiled, imagining what it would be like to hold her in the throes of passion once more, and hoping that it came sooner rather than later.

Half an hour later, and she continued to toy with the eggs on her plate, before deciding instead to eat the slice of orange that garnished her glass.

"So this ex of mine is the cause of all of this?" she asked taking a bite out of the sweet fruit, effectively breaking the silence.

"Hmm mm" Frank uttered as he chewed on a forkful of scrambled eggs. He swallowed and looked into her curious eyes. There was no ex-boyfriend, but he had to keep with the lie he told at the hospital. "He followed us out here. Waited until you were on your own. You two must have struggled; I made it back in time to see him running away and you on the floor unconscious."

"Why would he follow me out here?" She asked

"Because he's jealous. Upset that you chose me over him. He wants you back and I guess he feels that if he can't have you than neither can I." He feigned frustration and stood up, thrusting his hands into his pockets and effectively turning his back on her, smiling evilly as he did so. He had his opportunity and he couldn't resist the chance to turn the screw. "Besides, its not the first time he's attacked you…"

"How do you mean?" her voice was so small that he almost didn't recognize it. He turned to face her and eyed her before responding.

"He raped you Carla." He watched as her beautiful olive eyes brimmed with tears. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?" she choked out. He moved towards her and crouched down so that he was kneeling in front of her.

"It was about two months ago. God I didn't want you to find out like this," He said as he reached up and stroked her cheek. "He went to try to plead his way back into your life, you refused, telling him you loved me and were going to marry me, but he got angry. And when you asked him to leave he attacked you." He watched her face as she tried furiously to remember the event; tears of frustration making their way down her face. "That's why we came out here; to get away from it all."

"Wh-what's his name?" her voice becoming firm.

"Carla, it's not going to help right now,"

"His name, Frank." Her voice was strong, but her eyes gave away her vulnerability, as they always did.

"Peter Barlow." He stated maliciously.

"But," she shook her head in confusion, "that's the name you used! Why-" she paused, looking off to the side before closing her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked back to the man before her, "why would _you_ use _his_ name?"

"Because I was sure he wouldn't think that I would use his name. If he was going to start looking in hospitals for you, he certainly wouldn't be asking for his own name would he?"

"But he'd ask for mine." She countered; _'Something doesn't add up'_ she thought.

"Your last name is not Gordon…it's Connor, Carla."

"Oh, but-" She breathed out. This was all too much to take in, and she leaned forward on the table squeezing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She felt his hand on her, gently rubbing small circles on her back.

"Look, this is too much for you right now. Let's just try to finish breakfast. I'll answer any other questions you have, but that attack was so traumatizing to you the first time my love, I can't bear to see you relieve it again." He reached his fingers under her chin and drew her face towards his so she was now looking into his eyes again. "Please, Carla?"

"Okay." She reluctantly agreed and gave a soft smile.

'_That smile will be my undoing,'_ he thought to himself. He gently leaned in and kissed her lips, waiting for a reaction. When she slowly responded, he deepened the kiss; moving his hand gently through her hair, and caressing her earlobe. He pulled back and looked into her eyes; his hand remained cupping her cheek and he wiped away the tears that fell down her face with his thumb.

"That's my girl." He whispered proudly as he stood and went back to his seat, pleased that he was making inroads with her.

She continued to fiddle with her fingers as he ate breakfast.

"Where's my ring?" she asked quite suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"My engagement ring? I don't seem to have one?" she raised her left hand to show him. His mind worked fast, thinking up a lie.

"It's gone. It was taken the night you were attacked. We were going to buy you a replacement out here. Maybe we'll head out in a few days when you're feeling up to it, yeah?" He answered, but she was distracted looking about the room.

"Looks like we travelled awfully light for such a 'well-planned' vacation. Do I not have a suitcase?" she asked, seeing only one opened and filled with men's clothes.

His eyes seemed to darken slightly at her observations. "The flight misplaced it," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I seem to have all the luck don't I?" she grumbled leaning back into her chair and taking a bite out of a strip of bacon.

"My, you are an inquisitive one today aren't you?" he laughed at her frustration.

"Must be in my nature-" she retorted before another wave of déjà vu hit her.

"Remind me not to play 20 questions with you." Frank continued, but she was no longer listening; images flashed in her mind as clear as if she was watching it on the television…

"…_You have been asking questions." His Scottish accent dripped with accusation._

"_Ahhh! Well you see I've got an inquisitive nature. If I had gone to high school in the states it would 'ave said that in my yearbook, 'girl most likely to ask questions'." She said her voice quivering a little as she tried to put on her strong act. _

"_I'm your husband." He said and she could feel the anger behind his words. _

"_Apparently so." She quipped; He wasn't the man she thought she knew._

"_So if you have anything, you want to know, come to me." He stated. The atmosphere in the factory had changed drastically; it now had a rather dangerous feel to it._

"_Well I will don't you worry." She said in an attempt to end the conversation. _

"_So come to me." He repeated and she felt a shudder flow through her body. Fear._

_He noticed it and moved slowly towards her, anger and frustration fueling his steps, "Why do I sense that you're scared? Why would you be scared of me?"_

"_I'm not." She didn't even convince herself with that one._

_He cocked his head to the side "I think you are." He said before darting his tongue across his top lip. _

_She nodded slowly, her eyes blinking as she tried to compose herself, "Now why would that be?"_

_He threw his arms up in frustration, "Another question!" he spat "at least this time you've asked me!"_

"_Maybe I've got a million different questions I wanna ask you." She clucked, her confidence coming back, but the look in his eyes frightened her. They darkened as they stared at her, realizing she knew…_

"Carla!" Frank was leaning over her, curiosity evident on his face. "What's wrong? What are you remembering?"

"I was married before?" she asked disbelievingly. Frank sighed, relief briefly sweeping his features.

"Yes. Twice actually. You're not going to rest until you know are you?" she shook her head as she stared into his eyes, and he sighed again before pulling his chair around next to her. He held her hands in his, "The first was to an Irish bloke, Paul Connor. He died in a car accident. Was that who you remembered?" she shook her head again and he continued, "The second was to a Scot, Tony Gordon?" at her nod he continued, "He died in an explosion at a factory."

"I was scared of him." She said looking down to the floor as confusion etched across her features. "Why was I scared of him?" She asked as her eyes met his again.

"I don't know sweetheart. It's not a relationship that you divulged much information to me about." He decided he needed to change the subject fast before she broached another question he may not be able to lie himself out of. "How about I make us a brew, and I'll draw you a nice bath eh?"

She watched as he rose from his chair and went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

She knew he was lying. The truth lay somewhere in the questions that were muddled in her mind. She needed to draw them out. Somehow she needed to remember who she was. She had a sinking feeling; it was as though her life depended on it…

Little did she know that his reason for not wanting to get into the Tony story was because it would inevitably bring about the one memory that could end it all for him…

It would bring about the memories of the one person he could never compare to; the one person she truly loved with all her being; the one person who truly owned her heart, and the one person who could bring all her memories crashing back.

_Liam Connor._

He felt her eyes as they bore into him. He was losing his control over her. At the rate she was asking questions, she'd have her memory back by nightfall. He had to draw her back under his power again. And the only way to do that was to manipulate her insecurities as he had done so many months prior…


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: A short update. :)**

**Thank you for your reviews!**

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She walked into the softly lit bathroom; the large jet tub was brimming with bubbles and soft curls of steam rose off the hot water below. A bath pillow was nestled softly against one end of the tub, and a bath loofah and an assortment of bath gels lined the side. A chair from the main room was set up next to the tub, and she couldn't help but find it odd.

"So, I'm not sure which of these clothes you'd want to wear," a voice said from behind her, "the boutique downstairs didn't have a huge selection, so I've bought a few different choices for you, along with some knickers and bras for you to decide between." Frank stated as he laid the clothes out on the side dressing table. Just after breakfast, she had complained that she was getting a headache, so he helped her into bed where she slept until the better part of the evening. He decided to take advantage of her downtime and headed to the boutiques that resided in the main lobby. It was easy to shop for her, since he knew her size, and it gave him the chance to pick out a few choice items that he desired to see her in.

"Oh, and I filled the prescription for your painkillers as well." He stated dropping the small paper bag on the counter.

"This is a very large bathroom. I reckon most hotel rooms could fit in 'ere." Carla observed. "This place must cost a small fortune."

"Nothing is too expensive for my gorgeous fiancée." Frank said as he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her neck as he rested his chin on her shoulder. He felt her lean into him and he breathed in her scent; finding it incredibly intoxicating and arousing.

She didn't know why she leaned into his embrace. She was wary of him, and yet she wanted to feel safe. She felt so emotionally and physically drained, and the need for human contact seemed to call to her. She had another dreamless sleep, but upon awaking she felt less dizzy, and the throbbing at the back of her head had finally ceased. She felt his hands on her shoulders and her satin robe slip off her frame. He reached up and massaged her shoulders, working the kinks that she didn't know she had. Her head instinctively rolled to the side, allowing him better access, and her eyes closed; for a moment she was totally relaxed. His hands moved softly to her hair, rolling it into a soft bun and securing it with an elastic band. His hands moved to settle on her shoulders again,

"Let's get you into the tub." He huskily whispered. She turned to face him and looked into his eyes. They looked so gentle, so warm. Why was she untrusting of him?

"Do you think you could give me a bit of privacy?" she carefully asked. "I'm not completely comfortable with you seeing me in my altogether."

He gave a soft laugh, "Oh Carla! I'm your fiancée! I've seen you in your altogether plenty of times."

"I know," she looked down and a sudden blush graced her cheeks, "but umm, you see I don't know that you have, you know, up here?" she pointed to her head. He gave a deep sigh before wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close to him.

"Okay. I'll go outside and let you get undressed and into the tub. But I have to come back in to make sure there isn't an accident. So get in…carefully please?" At her nod he continued, "And let me know when you're settled." He kissed her forehead and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She carefully stepped out of the pyjamas she'd been wearing for days. She stepped out of her underwear and gently pushed the clothes off to the side with her foot. She sat on the edge of the tub and carefully stepped in; the heat from the water feeling so good against her tired limbs. She carefully slid down and rested her head against the pillow. She waited a few minutes before calling Frank in, enjoying the independence she had, even if was for a short while.

Upon hearing her say she was settled, Frank walked back into the bathroom; his heart leapt at the sight of her in the bathtub; from just above her breasts down was covered with bubbles. He gave a small gasp and her hands immediately flew to her face as if something was on it.

"What?" she asked horrified.

"No, no." he chuckled as he sat in the chair so he was facing her. "You are just….stunning Carla. You know that? Absolutely stunning." He breathed out genuinely.

She felt her cheeks burn red as a blush rose across them and she couldn't stop the smile that graced her features. "How do you do that?" She asked glancing down,

"Do what?" he asked curiously.

"Look at me as though you haven't seen me every day since we met?" she quietly asked.

He simply smiled, "You just amaze me. No matter what life throws at you, you just carry on, looking as gorgeous as ever." He was remembering a few days in particular, none of which he could voice out loud. The first was as she cowered from him in the factory, slowly inching her way to the door as he pressured her to drop the charges; the tears streaming down her face, the way she held her chin up in defiance; he was overwhelmed with desire to simply hold her and make her his. The other was when she confronted him at his house. She stood in front of him, gorgeous, defiant, and angry; arms across her chest as if to shield himself from his eyes; but what she did was attract him further. He overcame the urge to throw her onto the floor and ravish her again. Had Maria and his mother not been there, he wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself.

"Have there been many?" she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"When your mum died, that was a big one." He responded, knowing it was a wound he could manipulate as he did the first time.

"Me mum's dead?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. She died quite suddenly, and you weren't expecting it. You were quite shaken with the news. It was the first time you really opened up to me." He said leaning back as he observed her face.

"…_I told her it didn't work out. I didn't tell her that you've been acting weird all day, and that your weird behaviour has cost us, ooh, a hundred thousand pound turnover – " She gave a short derisive laugh but he continued, "What's going on?"_

"_My mum's died." She answered without hesitation and she saw his stance soften slightly. "Anyway, a hundred grand Frank? Come on you saw her figures! There was more comedy in them than in a Jim Davison routine." _

_His expression was one of complete shock and concern as he carefully approached her, "Your mum?" he started. _

"_Mind you that's not saying much is it?" she tried to keep the subject changed as tears welled in her eyes again, "Come on Frank you saw them, she was taking the mick-"_

"_Carla?" he asked firmly, "Your mum's died?"_

_She couldn't push down the emotions anymore, but she tried to look away to hide the tears that threatened to fall, "my brother's been phoning saying she were poorly an' that, but" she swallowed the lump in her throat, didn't realize how serious it was." He simply looked at her, sympathy written all over his features. "Do now, don't I?" she sniffled and began to make her way past him "it's too late."_

She opened her eyes, and looked back at him. She remembered the hug he gave her that day, completely enveloping her and trying to take her pain away. She gave him a soft smile.

"You supported me that day." She stated softly.

He leaned forward, "and I will, for the rest of our lives." He smiled back, "Now will you please relax? The point of this bath is to make you feel at ease and calm and loosen up those sore muscles."

She let out a chuckle, and laid her head back on the pillow, effectively closing her eyes, breathing in the aroma of the bath gel and sighing in contentment.

For the first time in the last couple of days, she finally felt at ease.

And in the chair a few feet from her, Frank was beginning to feel confident again…


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Thank you all again for the reviews and the touching compliments! I keep meaning to write you each a private message back, but life keeps getting in the way, and I find myself writing this as it hits me. But please know that all your reviews are so very much appreciated. Sadly, I am not on Twitter as of yet, but hopefully I'll make an account soon! **_

_**Enjoy, and as always reviews are appreciated! :)**_

* * *

He breathed in the night air; listening to the crashing of the waves upon the beach in the distance. They had been searching for Carla for the past three days since their arrival in L.A.; it felt as if they had hit every possible hotel in whole state, each with the same response: "no we haven't seen them," and "we'll keep our eyes peeled." After another equally exhausting day, they finally made it back to Marcus' flat. They all needed some energy and some rest before starting again at dawn. He needed some time to himself, so he stood out on Marcus' balcony.

He opened his phone, glancing at the time. _12:01 a.m._ He angrily shut it and put it back in his pocket, knowing that once again he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep. He began fiddling around for his pack of fags.

Placing one in his mouth, he paused to look up to the sky. The stars shone brightly, and the crescent moon was so close he could reach out and touch it.

"_Oh I'll just stand here like a lemon then shall I?" She huffed sarcastically_

"_Well mix it up a bit, stand there like a lime then!" he retorted back before giving her a winning grin._

He smiled fondly as yet another memory of Carla overtook his thoughts.

"_What are you havin' for your first dance?" She asked as she leaned against the pub watching as he took a drag from his cigarette._

"_Ah well we're divided on that one: Lea wants 'Angels' by Robbie Williams-" he gave her a look that just screamed 'I know, right?'_

"_Oh bit obvious in'it?" She scrunched her nose at the song choice._

"_And I'm gunning for Sinatra, you know something with a bit of swagger."_

"_Fly me to the moon…" She sang softly as a huge smile broke about her face._

"_Well I once had a mate in the navy who did it to a bird he saw, made everyone join in."_

"_Ugh some people!" she scoffed, but never losing her smile_

_He looked up to the night sky, "Fly me to the moon though: now there's a song"_

Smiling to himself, he began to whistle the tune as he had that night just over a year ago; he could almost hear her voice singing along, pausing to ask him what the lyrics were that followed, and his voice as he began to sing "let me see what spring is like" she instantly remembered them and sang along, "on Jupiter and Mars"; and her laugh. He remembered her laugh that night: It was a laugh that pulled at his heartstrings, even though he didn't realize why at the time.

Smiling he looked down and lit his cigarette. He felt a hand on his back.

"Brought you a glass of orange juice." Ciaran said, as he handed him the tumbler.

"Cheers mate." Peter said as he took another drag of his cigarette. Ciaran leaned his elbows on the railing.

"I just spoke to Michelle. She's just beside herself with worry about this whole situation. And to make matters worse, apparently, her mum and dad are arriving in a few hours from Ireland to help her with the wedding plans, but she hasn't told them about Carla yet. Maria has taken Liam with her and is staying at Carla's flat with Michelle, offering Helen and Barry her flat in the meantime. Hopefully, Helen lays off the Carla bashing or Michelle might just snap."

"Well maybe that's what that Helen needs eh? To be put in her place by her own daughter." Peter whispered under his breath. At Ciaran's raised eyebrow he continued, "Leanne told me some of the stuff she'd say to Carla; blaming her for both Paul's and Liam's death. It's no wonder the poor woman clung to anyone that showed her affection. She's been pushed down so many times; she doesn't believe anyone could actually truly love her."

"Well from the stories I heard I'd say Liam loved her." Ciaran replied.

"Oh he did indeed. And when he died she built up those walls around her heart. Not allowing anyone else to get in close enough to love her, and then leave again." He spat out bitterly.

"So when did you realize you loved her?" his friend asked pointedly. Peter looked at him sadly, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke billowing above his head.

"When I thought I lost her." He answered quietly.

"When she overdosed?"

"No. That just solidified it. It was the day Frank proposed to her in the pub. I felt my heart sink, and when she turned him down and I felt this huge wave of relief. And that's when I knew-," he flicked the cigarette off the balcony angrily, "-that's when I knew I was head over heels for her, and I had to suppress those feelings, and the best way for me to do that was to push her into marrying Frank."

"You didn't…"

"Yeah," he looked off shaking his head, "I wanted so hard to hide my feelings that I thought if she married Frank, we'd both move on. I knew he was a controlling prat, but I pushed it out of my mind. And I knew she were vulnerable, an' all. I'll never forgive myself for that." His eyes began filling with tears. Ciaran placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Peter, Frank is a rapist. He's a man who loves control. Let's say she didn't agree to his proposal, do you think he would've walked away that easily? No. You and I know that some blokes just don't take no for an answer."

"I just," Peter let out a sigh of frustration, "I just have to find her Ciaran. I need to hold her in my arms and know that she's okay. I won't be able to rest until I do."

"And we will. I mean it Peter! We will find her, just have a little faith." He reassured him as he gave him a pat on the back.

They stood in silence for half an hour or so; Peter and Ciaran both resting their elbows on the railing and looking out into the distance.

"You know," Ciaran began, breaking the silence that befell the two, "it would be helpful if we had one of those iPhones with the GPS in it. It would make navigating a hell-" Peter's arm suddenly grasped Ciaran's.

"iPhone…" he whispered, before looking his friend dead in the eye, "Carla has an iPhone!" he fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

"Why I didn't I think of this before, stupid pillock!" he berated himself.

"Do you really think she'd still have it?" Ciaran asked dumbfounded.

"It's worth a shot." He scrolled in his phone before hovering over Carla's name, and selecting her iPhone number. His heart began to race as he heard the ringing in his ear. It rang three times before he heard a click, his eyes widening in hope as he looked at Ciaran.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Peter Barlow." Came the voice from the other end. Peter's face contorted in anger. "How is life back in Weatherfield?"

"You!" he breathed out. "What have you done with Carla? Where is she, you bastard?"

"Carla? Oh you mean my fiancée? Oh she's quite content Peter don't you worry. She and I have been, uh, making up for lost time shall we say?" Frank stated smugly.

"You sick-" he stated through gritted teeth before he was interrupted.

"-jealous Barlow?" he could practically see the smile adorning Frank's face.

"You what?"

"Oh, you are jealous aren't you? It's quite pathetic really." Frank taunted him. "You have a wife that loves you, even though she is a bit of a nag, a lovely son, a thriving business and yet you still desire what you can't have; and I know a lot of this has to do with your need to be the knight in shining armor and save the 'so-called' damsel in distress. But let me assure you, Carla is no longer in distress."

"What are you saying Frank, what the hell have you done to her?" Peter spat viciously into the phone.

"Let me put your mind at rest, Peter: As I make love to my gorgeous fiancée over and over again; as I hold her hot, naked body close to mine; as I thrust inside her deeper and deeper," Peter's free hand clenched into a fist, "she cries out _my_ name. She is once again, completely and totally _mine."_

"She'll never be yours Frank, never again." Peter ground out.

"Believe what you like Peter, but I really must dash; my damsel awaits. Oh and thank you for reminding me about this being on. I best shut it off to avoid any possibility of the authorities finding us by GPS. Sweet dreams Barlow." And with a chuckle Frank hung up.

Peter angrily shut his phone and punched the brick wall. His phone call had attracted the attention of Gary, Marcus and Dennis who now stood out on the balcony with Ciaran. They watched as Peter leaned into the wall, his knuckles scraped and bleeding.

"Does he suspect you're here?" Marcus asked pointedly.

"No," Peter breathed out, pushing himself away from the wall and facing them, "He thinks I'm still in Weatherfield."

"Good. Let's roll." Dennis stated, uncrossing his arms and heading inside followed closely by Marcus.

"Where are we going? He's already figured out to shut off her iPhone so we can't access her GPS signal." Peter exasperated.

"That's what he thinks." Gary stated with a smirk. Peter and Ciaran exchanged a glance before rushing after them.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: Hahaha! I'm loving the Argh! Ugh! Ergh! comments being left in response to the last chapter. Thank you all again for the kind words and reviews.**_

_**Here's the next part, and fair warning that chapter 11 will be rated M for sexual content and disturbing subject matter.**_

_**Enjoy! :)**_

* * *

Frank smiled as he turned off the phone and removed the battery. He paused outside the balcony door of the furnished beach condo he had rented a day prior, reminiscing over the past few days…

_Following her bath, Carla still wanted some privacy whilst getting changed. Despite his desperate longing to try to seduce her, he had to draw her in to trust him, so he did as she asked. He even offered to sleep on the couch in the adjoining room so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. He remembered the feeling when she grasped his arm, and how soft her voice was when she whispered, "please stay." He remembered the feeling of holding her close; feeling her hot breath tickling his chest as her breathing slowed down to a steady rhythm. She drifted off to sleep, as he continued stroking her hair and shoulder. _

_He remembered the sting of tears as he realized how truly happy he was at the moment. _

_This was the way it was supposed to have been. Him, holding his gorgeous wife as she slept next to him. But it didn't occur that way; she broke his heart and he, in return, broke her. But now, that was all in the past; a horrible nightmare that never occurred. This moment was perfect. He wanted it to continue on forever, and for that to happen, he knew that they could never return to England. He didn't know how much longer she would remain without her memories. She was determined to get them back, and he was determined that she forget. He knew that when the memories did return the resort they currently stayed in would not give him the advantage of keeping her locked away. It didn't help that the doctor was getting suspicious…_

_The next morning prior to the doctor's visit, after some playful banter with Carla, he logged onto his laptop and began searching for vacation rentals. After Dr. Martin checked on her and found her in good spirits, Frank waited for him to leave the hotel room before slipping Carla an extra painkiller. She became incredibly drowsy within the hour and he insisted she catch up on the sleep her body desperately needed. Tucking her into bed, he leaned in to kiss her forehead, surprised when she turned and kissed him gently on the lips before snuggling back into her pillow. He stroked her hair affectionately, before leaving the hotel room; confident that she would be out for the next few hours. He travelled about 30 minutes from the resort to an area where condos lined the beach. He walked into a small building that housed just 4 lofts and spoke with the owner. The loft was fully furnished, available for weekly to monthly rentals at a price that was considerably lower than the resort they currently resided in. It would be another temporary measure, but it would keep them relatively stable until her condition became clearer. It would also be a lot cheaper to buy food and prepare it themselves then to keep ordering room service. Not that he had a problem flaunting his money, but with no immediate source of income at the moment, he had to start being more careful._

"_There's just two things I need to check with you prior to signing any contract," he said to the owner, "The first is that our identities remain in the strictest confidence. There's a lunatic out there looking for my fiancée and he's already found her once and attacked her-"_

"_Oh I'm so sorry to hear that! How absolutely horrible for you two!" the owner exclaimed._

"_Thank you, I don't know how much more trauma she can take. She's been through a lot these past few months." He stated as he looked to the ground. "The second is a bit of an unusual but necessary request. You see due to the trauma she's been through recently, she has been prone to sleepwalking in the middle of the night. Now obviously, with this lunatic out there I can't have her slipping past me and wandering the streets. So I'm going to ask if we can install a second doorknob on the inside of the flat's door, with a lock. That way no one can leave the apartment without using a key."_

"_Well it'll cost you extra," the owner stated then became quizzical, "But, is that safe?"_

"_Oh I'll make sure there are three keys. One in a hidden spot near the door for emergencies, you know. It's again, a temporary measure until the sleepwalking subsides or when he is apprehended by the authorities."_

"_I can have it installed by the end of the day and you can move in tomorrow." The owner stated holding out his hand to seal the deal. Frank smirked and shook his hand. _

"_Let's see that paperwork." He stated._

_Upon arriving back to the resort, he ran into Dr. Martin._

"_Ah Mr. Barlow," the doctor said effectively blocking Frank's path. "Your fiancée's stitches have healed exceptionally well. It appears that the operating doctor may have put them in more as a precaution then as a necessity as these usually take 7-10 days before they can be removed. Her wound has closed up nicely on its own and I'm confident we can remove the sutures as early as tomorrow afternoon, but we'll continue to keep an eye on it just in case it reopens."_

"_Morning would be preferable if possible." Frank stated. "We'll be checking out tomorrow. I've rented us a flat for the remainder of our stay here."_

"_Checking out?" Dr. Martin couldn't hide his surprise, "Do you think that's wise?"_

"_Yes, I think it is. As lovely as this resort is, we like to have our own space, move freely about, cook our own food, I'm sure you understand." _

"_Well yes but, considering that Miss Gordon is coming along so well with her memory I was hoping to put her under a mild hypnosis to see if we can't draw some more out." _

"_Absolutely not." Frank shook his head, "I'm not having her undergo anything that could traumatize her further, doctor. She remembers who I am, and that is all that matters in the short term." The doctor decided to test his gut feeling._

"_Excuse me for saying Mr. Barlow, but it would appear that you do not want your fiancée to remember anything about her life except for you."_

"_After what she has been through can you blame me? Would it be so horrible for her not to remember she was raped?" Frank was becoming unnerved, and the doctor became more suspicious._

"_I think you would prefer that, whether it is in her best interest or not." The doctor stated boldly_

_Frank's eyes darkened, "and why would that be?"_

"_Because if she doesn't remember the rape, then she cannot prosecute her attacker." The doctor lowered his voice to a whisper._

"_You take liberties, Dr. Martin. We chose this resort specifically because of its confidentiality clause. If a businessman wants to come here with his girlfriend, his wife will never find out; a celebrity can stay here without fear of being hounded by the media. My fiancée can stay here without fear of her ex-boyfriend finding her-"_

"_-All the more reason why you should stay here, or should I be contacting the authorities myself?" the doctor interrupted_

_Frank gave a snort and stepped closer to the doctor, "I want my fiancée to heal in her own time. Her attacker will be prosecuted I can assure you. But if she can live in blissful ignorance for a few days or a few weeks I'm not taking that away from her. Now, I want you to remove her stitches tomorrow morning, and if I hear you making any sort of wild accusations like you just hinted towards me, I will be sure to let the owner of the resort along with your superiors know of your threatening to break not only the confidentiality clause of this resort, but also of your intent to apparently break your Hippocratic Oath. Doctor-Patient Confidentiality…remember?" The doctor took a step back, decidedly less confident than before._

"_There is no need for that. I was simply acting in Miss Gordon's best interests."_

"_As am I" Frank retorted._

"_I will see you in the morning Mr. Barlow. Give my best to the patient." He sidestepped Frank and continued towards his office. _

_Frank watched him until he slipped out of sight. With the doctor being so suspicious, he really had to tread lightly with Carla in case anything sprung back to her mind. _

_Upon opening the hotel room door, he found Carla still asleep in the bed. Without taking his eyes from her, he removed his jacket and shoes. Climbing into the bed with her, he pulled her close to him but she was startled and opened her eyes before relaxing when she saw it was him._

"_Shhh" he whispered into her hair, "it's just me. I just thought I'd let you snuggle something other than the pillow."_

_She smiled into his chest, before looking up at him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "Well it is a nice change, though I can contort the pillow any way I want." She playfully poked at him, "this is much harder to manipulate."_

_He chuckled and drew her closer to him, "God I love you Carla Connor. Do you know that? Do you really know how much I love you?"_

_She smiled, biting her lower lip and looking up at him from behind her long eyelashes, "Enough to let me choose what we have for dinner tonight?"_

"_Oh getting your appetite back are you?" he smiled at her._

"_I'm starving!" she growled playfully, before rolling over and grabbing the menu. They ate dinner that night, their conversation as light hearted as it was when they first began dating; as it was when they escaped to Rome. He told her about the renting the condo and she seemed relieved to be leaving the confines of the hotel. They shared a few passionate kisses that night, but he resisted all urges to press it further. He had to ensure that she remained oblivious until after they were away from the resort and from Dr. Martin's prying eyes. He slept next to her that night as well, simply holding her close to him and savouring the moment. _

_The next morning saw Dr. Martin taking out her stitches, remarking how well her wound healed. Frank kept watch over him without making it obvious. He watched as Dr. Martin spared one last sad glance at Carla and kissed her hand softly before closing the door behind him. Frank then finished packing the suitcase and within the hour they were on their way to the condo. _

_She was overwhelmed with its beauty as she walked through the loft. They spent the majority of the afternoon on the balcony watching the waves crash upon the sand. He sat behind her in the lounge chair, stroking her hair, her shoulders, her arms. He couldn't quite believe the reality of it all. He excused himself to cook her a delicious meal, while she took a shower and washed her hair. Tying her wet hair into a loose bun, she slipped into the casual dress he had bought her a few days earlier. She told him how she found it comforting being in something other than pyjamas and sweats, and felt strangely like she was in her second skin; as if she was used to dressing up on an everyday basis._

_They ate their meal, and chatted and he kept remarking how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to have her. They curled up on the sofa watching a movie and unaware that time had passed so quickly until he heard the ring of her iPhone. He found it in her robe pocket the day he rushed her to the hospital. He quickly pocketed it in his own jacket and forgot about it. He excused himself and upon seeing the name Peter Barlow flashing on the screen, he smirked and stepped outside onto the balcony, out of earshot. _

He was satisfied that he had been able to torment Peter; he figured he might try to come out to L.A. now but was more than certain he wouldn't even know where to start looking. Frank had covered his tracks well…or so he thought...

He looked through the glass at Carla as she moved about the kitchen. He would have her tonight. He could no longer suppress his urges.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay! Remember this chapter is rated M for descriptions of a sexual nature and disturbing subject matter, including mentions of rape. If this disturbs you please do not read any further.**_

_**I'm hoping to have another chapter up in a few hours to make up for my lack of updates this weekend. **_

_**As always reviews are always appreciated! :)**_

* * *

Her eyelashes were somewhat stuck together and her eyes ached, but Carla managed to painfully blink her eyes open. She must have softly cried herself to sleep just a few hours prior. The tears must have fallen down her face for hours, though she couldn't be sure how long. Her pillow was damp against her face and she felt a chill rush through her body. She glanced at the clock next to the bed.

_5:43 am. _

She looked down to the arm ensnaring her waist and felt a wave of nausea overtake her. She quickly dashed to the adjoining bathroom, fell to her knees in front of the toilet and heaved. After a few moments, when she was sure she had nothing left to retch, she raised a shaky hand and flushed the bile down before leaning back against the cool wall behind her. A thin sheet of sweat now graced her skin, causing her short satin nightgown to cling to her uncomfortably as her body involuntarily shook.

Something about this was all too familiar. She raised her hand to her forehead and gingerly rubbed it; a motion that she hoped would somehow unjumble the thoughts in her mind. She was startled, jumping slightly, as the door to the bathroom was gently pushed open with a slight creak. She looked up to the man who stood there; a look of genuine concern on his face.

"Carla? Are you alright sweetheart?" Frank asked as he took in the image before him. She sat leaning against the wall, her knees drawn in to her chest. Her body was convulsing with gentle shakes and her eyes bloodshot from the tears she had obviously shed.

'_Has it come back to her?'_ He questioned and mentally kicked himself for being so careless.

She continued to look into his eyes, searching for answers. "What happened last night?" her voice croaked. His mind raced as he gave a sigh of relief. He still had a chance to fix the damage he had caused.

He stepped into the bathroom and crouched next to her shaking form, her eyes never removed from his. As he reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, she flinched away.

"I'm so sorry Carla. I don't know what came over me." He said quietly.

"You wouldn't stop." She whispered as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "I begged you to stop," she eyes met his again, re-filled with unfallen tears and she choked out a sob, "why didn't you stop?"

He released a sigh and sat next to her, his mind in overdrive. "We haven't made love since you were attacked Carla." He was looking across from them at the sink, avoiding eye contact in case it gave him away. "As we started getting hot and heavy last night, I just had these images in my mind of your ex having his dirty way with you on the floor of your flat." He glanced to her, "I just saw red. I was angry that he has broken you; that every time I touch you, you jump or flinch as if I burned you. I was angry that he knowingly ruined our chance to ever make love again. I didn't know what I was doing, I just wanted to remove all memories of that night from my mind and I couldn't stop myself. I just got angrier and angrier. The image of you and him became like a spot of blood on my shirt that no matter how hard I scrubbed, it wouldn't come out. I didn't realize how rough I was with you until it was over." He suddenly shifted his body to face hers, grasping her hands in his, and looking into her eyes. "Carla I am so sorry. It'll never happen again."

She looked into his eyes, unsure if he was telling the truth or not. One thing she knew for certain was that in this moment, she was terrified of him.

"So you thought the best way to remove the memory of my being raped was to be as rough with me as my attacker was?" She said quietly, testing him.

"I never meant to hurt you. I wanted us to have the most passionate night we had in a long time. I didn't realize how damaged I was over the whole situation. I suppressed all my feelings from that night because I had to be strong for you." He dropped his head into his hands, willing the tears to fall, "I'm not as strong as I thought I was…God Carla I am so, so sorry. I am so sick with myself." He cried into his arms, silently hoping she would believe him.

She didn't know how to react. Her mind was trying to rationalize her thoughts; maybe he had suppressed his emotions so much that it finally exploded last night. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it wouldn't happen again.

But then there was that feeling; that same pestering feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had days ago. It felt as if her stomach wanted to swallow itself into a protective armor as a turtle with its shell; as if it was warning her of imminent danger. She delicately touched his arm, and he turned his tear-stained face to hers.

"You scared me, Frank." She whispered.

"Maybe we rushed it." He stated, while wiping his face. "Maybe we need to just be with each other; you know?" he cupped her cheek and brushed the tears away with his thumb, "just until you feel you can trust me when I say it will _never_ happen again."

She wasn't sure what she needed, but knew she had to get away from him at the present time. Her stomach churned and ached and nausea was setting in again.

"How about, I run you a bath, hmm?" Frank interrupted her thoughts, "why don't you go out and relax and I'll come and get you when it is ready." She nodded her agreement, wanting nothing more than a few minutes to herself, and he leaned in and gently kissed her lips, feeling her shudder. She painfully stood up, her body screaming in pain, and she walked out of the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, remembering what occurred there just a few short hours ago, while unbeknownst to her, Frank was doing the same.

_He wasn't sure when it all went wrong. He remembered gently kissing her neck in the kitchen. He remembered the way she turned to face him and leaned in for a kiss. The kiss became passionate almost instantaneously. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer as hers ensnared behind his neck. He reached down, not breaking the kiss, and scooped her up into his arms. He carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He lay her down onto the bed and began discarding her clothes, as well as his own._

_He remembered how much he ached for her; and how when he looked down at her it was as if nothing had occurred just a few months again. Instead it was as it had been in the summer; they were back in their hotel room in Rome. He began to feel light and giddy. He leaned down and laid a gentle trail of kisses down her body. When she began kissing his neck he thought he would burst. He positioned himself between her legs as her arms encircled his neck. He groaned as he entered her, emotions making their way to the surface again. He wrapped his body closer to hers, as they began a gentle, steady rhythm. _

'_Nothing could be more perfect than this.' He thought to himself._

_Suddenly his mind wandered to Peter; he imagined the look of anguish and jealousy across his features if he knew what was currently happening in the beachside condo, and he smirked; a sense of gratification playing upon his mind. _

_But those images suddenly faltered upon hearing Carla's soft moan beneath him. His mind changed to an image of Peter laying atop Carla gently thrusting into her, and her sighs and moans of pure ecstasy began pounding in his ears. He was suddenly standing beside the bed; no longer a participant, but an observer to the scene before him, and Peter now lay on top of Carla. He saw her eyes looking up adoringly at the bookie…so in love with him…Frank became angry._

_He watched their lovemaking and wondered why he ever doubted that they slept together before Carla broke off their engagement. They fit perfectly together. _

_Peter looked over at Frank and smirked smugly. The anger boiled inside him and he grit his teeth watching the scene before him. Peter started pumping faster and faster…_

_He could feel two hands on his shoulders trying to push him away but he swatted at them. Somewhere between his grunts of frustration a meek voice could be heard,_

"_Ow!... Frank your hurting me…. stop please…"_

_He wouldn't acknowledge it. All he could see was Peter and Carla through a green filter. He was jealous, and angry. The two hands kept pushing at his shoulders and out of sheer annoyance he grasped the wrists and forced them on either side of the woman beneath him. His fingers dug into the delicate skin and he could feel her writhing beneath him, struggling to get free._

"_No, please stop…"_

_But he couldn't stop. He didn't lie when he told Carla it was like trying to remove a stubborn spot of blood on his shirt. He couldn't focus on anything else; couldn't hear anything else but the sound of his own heart thundering in his ears._

"_Frank…please…ow…stop!" Carla sobbed as tears streamed down her face._

_It was only when he climaxed, tightening his grip painfully on her wrists, that she screamed in sheer pain. His eyes suddenly looked down into her wide eyes that were now filled with fear._

_What had he done?_

_He released her wrists and jumped off her, quickly moving to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, and quickly emerged back into the bedroom afraid she may have called the police. _

_But the sight before him broke his heart into a thousand pieces. The scene was familiar. She lay curled onto her side, knees drawn up to her chest, the sheet covering her shaking form. Tears had stained her face, and her hair clung to the wetness on her cheeks. _

'_This wasn't supposed to happen,' he kicked himself. He moved carefully to the bed and crouched down so he was at her eye level. She shakily looked at him, and he reached down to the ground to pull up her nightie. He handed it to her and tried to give her a small smile. She simply stared at him, tremors wracking her body. Her eyes showed confusion and fear, and he could see she was slipping out of consciousness. He turned and walked to the other side of the bed, pulling on his pyjama bottoms. Carla slipped the nightie over her head desperate to cover her nakedness; she felt used, dirty, mangled. She had no energy to run; none left in her to fight. She simply lay back down on her side, her back turned from Frank and she closed her heavy eyes. The tears continued to fall as she went over what just happened. She could feel darkness creeping through her body; the trauma she had just endured was too much for her fragile state, and with a final sob, she slipped into unconsciousness._

Carla paced the bedroom, listening to the streaming water as it filled the tub in the bathroom. She felt like running but didn't know where to go or who would listen. Maybe she was just overreacting? Maybe this was all just another horrible nightmare that they would have to put behind them. She found her underwear strewn on the floor and carefully slipped them back on.

She sat on the edge of the bed again, her lower body aching with pain. She glanced down to her wrists, and gingerly ran her thumb over the bright red finger marks.

Her mind flooded with memories and she inhaled sharply.

"Something borrowed, something blue eh?" she suddenly whispered aloud, remembering herself saying the same thing as she sat on a sofa next to a police officer.

This wasn't the first time _he_ did this. Her mind flashed images one after another like a flipbook; Frank pinning her to the door of her flat, throwing her to the ground…overpowering her. He pinned her down, ripping open her shirt and hiking her skirt up,

She heard herself begging him to stop, she heard the screams of pain, she saw the rawness and anger in his eyes as he thrust angrily into her.

She saw herself curled into a fetal position as he stood over her. She heard his words as they cut through her like a knife,

'_It's your fault. You made me do it.'_

Realization hit her and fresh tears rolled down her face; she jumped up and backed away as the door to the bathroom opened. There he stood; his figure outlined by the lights behind him, looking curiously at her, she felt a wave of fear overtake her body as her back came into contact with the wall behind her.

"You," she whispered shakily, her fingernails digging into the wall, "it was you…"

Frank's eyes darkened as he stared at her. _She remembered._


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: As promised :)**_

* * *

"What was me, Carla?" Frank asked mockingly.

"You raped me." She stated bravely, though her shaking form proved she was anything but brave at the moment.

"Carla, Carla, Carla…" he said as he shook his head and stepped into the bedroom, "your mind is more of a mess than we originally thought."

"Then why is your tone so patronizing Frank?" she began to edge towards the door.

"You are accusing me of raping you Carla, have you any idea how ridiculous that sounds?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow and inched towards her like a predator.

"No, it happened. I remember it: you pinned me down the same way you did tonight…"

"Oh please! Carla, listen to yourself!" his voice raising slightly, "don't you think it's more plausible that, after this unfortunate turn of events tonight, that your mind is simply playing tricks on you? That instead of wanting to remember that it was your one true love Peter Barlow that raped you, it's more convenient to replace him with me?"

"And why would my mind want to do that?" she retorted quickly "I thought he was an ex-boyfriend who was jealous that I no longer loved him." She kept moving towards the door, but he was quickly closing the distance between them. "How is he suddenly my one true love?" His eyes darkened and she felt a shudder course through her body. "Why did you do it, Frank?"

"You are not thinking straight my dear – " he moved closer to her and she pressed further into the wall behind her.

"Don't come near me!" she shakily stated. He held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Calm down! For goodness sake I'm not going to hurt you-"

"Yeah, right" she scoffed, "Somehow I'm sure I've heard that from you before."

"Okay Carla, let's play it your way. Let's say I did rape you: let's say I pinned you down and had my terrible way with you," he gave a smirk and she felt fear rising within her, "what are you going to do? Turn me in? Who's going to believe an amnesiac with a head injury whose fiancée has been nothing but doting? The doctors all saw how worried I was when you were in the hospital…I've gotten out of worse before Carla, this will be a cake walk."

"You're a sick bastard."

"You need to rest sweetheart. You've been through a lot and your mind is trying to piece your life back together." His voice was sickly sweet, as he inched closer to her and didn't miss her glance towards the door, "just come to bed and I'll make you a nice cup of tea okay? We'll talk through this and sort your mind out as best we can."

Carla leapt for the door, breaking into a mad run down the stairs. She made it to the front door and tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.

"It needs a key sweetheart." Frank stated as he slowly made his way down the stairs, slipping a t-shirt on over his head. "I couldn't chance you sleepwalking through the night, or running off and telling the police some made up story about me forcing myself on you."

She angrily slammed her fists against the door before turning to face him. He reached out suddenly and grasped her by her upper arms, moving her backwards until she was pinned up against the kitchen counter. He stared down into her tear filled eyes, and smirked as she shook beneath his hands. He pressed into her, enjoying the control he had over her again. If he couldn't have her in blissful oblivion, then he would have her any way he could. He enjoyed the fact that he broke the 'strong woman' façade she wore daily. Enjoyed the fact that she was butter in his hands once again.

"Now, I'm going to go to the pharmacy and fill your sleeping pill prescription…I think your lack of sleep isn't helping your mind clear itself up." He ran a hand downwards from the crown of her head, cupping the side of her face and head simultaneously. "I've disconnected the phone lines, and I think you best spend the time I'm away _recovering_ from this traumatic episode, otherwise I may be forced to take some action." His eyes roamed her body from head to foot before slowly moving back up and staring into her wide eyes. He pulled her face close to his and dispensed upon her a bruising kiss, hearing her whimper against his lips. He moved away from her and pulled the key out of his pyjama pocket. Unlocking the door he turned back to glance at her. She stood shakily, leaning against the counter for support, watching him as tears continued to stream down her face. As he walked out of the condo, she slid to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees she allowed the sobs that wracked her body to overtake her. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and she was now the prisoner of the man who raped her…for reasons she still did not understand.

* * *

The sun rose in the distance. 'Another day,' Dr. Martin thought mournfully as he took a sip of his black coffee. He was sat in a booth in a diner, his pen nervously tapping on the notepad in front of him. The waitress brought over his breakfast and refilled his cup of coffee at his nod. He simply brushed the food to the side as he rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. His mind was on Carla Gordon and her fiancée Peter Barlow. He was convinced that her moral sanity was in danger. He didn't think the man he knew as Peter Barlow would ever try to take her life, but even he could see he was a controlling man, and that sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach told him he was the one who raped her several months ago.

He took a sip of coffee, and rubbed his forehead. He had to think of a way to contact the authorities without breaking his oath or the confidentiality clause of the Palisades Resort. He had been in that diner for over four hours, having been unable to sleep the night before; worrying about what the beautiful amnesiac patient could be going through at the hands of her fiancée.

He heard the raised voices of several men as they entered the diner, but didn't look up as he furiously scribbled ideas down on the pad of paper, before angrily scratching them out.

"We've searched every hotel in the 15km zone we acquired from the GPS signal." Marcus stated. "There's none left to search; maybe we should be looking into other possibilities."

After Peter's phone call with Frank over seven hours earlier, they had all headed to the military base to trace the signal of Carla's iPhone. Since Frank had turned the phone off , they were able to acquire a general zone using the high tech military equipment but were unable to pinpoint the exact location. They had spent the hours that followed hitting every hotel and open restaurant in the area looking for any sign of her or her captor.

"Excuse me miss?" a male British accent caught Dr. Martin's attention and he looked up to see a rather frazzled man in his early forties addressing the waitress behind the counter. "Have you seen either of these people?" He held up two large photos, and Dr. Martin craned his neck to catch a peek.

The waitress shook her head, "No, I haven't love, sorry. Friends of yours?"

"You could say that." Peter stated giving a sigh of frustration. "She has been kidnapped by him, and we know they are somewhere in the general vicinity, so could you please," he took hold of her hand and sighed, "please, just take another look?" The look in his eyes was so desperate the waitress couldn't say no to him. Her eyes roamed across the photos a second time, before shaking her head again.

"I'm sorry love. But I'll keep my eyes open. Is there a number I can reach you at?" she stated gently. Peter moved away from the counter, his hands running through his hair in exasperation, as Ciaran gave the woman the photos with their mobile numbers written on a piece of paper.

"Come on Barlow, we'll find her." Dennis stated reassuringly as he put his hand on Peter's shoulder.

'_Barlow.'_ The doctor repeated to himself before calling out,

"Umm, excuse me?" he rose from his booth and walked towards the five men, stopping just in front of Peter. "Did I hear him call you Barlow?"

"Who wants to know?" Peter asked, immediately on the defensive.

"It's just uncanny that I'd run into two Barlows within the span of a week. From England, I assume?" at Peter's nod he continued, "Are you related to Peter Barlow?"

The man in front of him looked confused for a moment before looking at the men around him, shifting his weight and stating, "_I'm_ Peter Barlow." he answered pointing to himself, before it dawned on him: Frank had been using his name. "Wait! You know this man?" He held up the photo of Frank, hope suddenly clinging to his features.

"Yes, that's Peter Barlow, and that's Miss Gordon," he stated pointing to the other glossy image.

Peter suddenly grabbed him by the collar, "Where? Where are they?"

Dr. Martin was taken aback by the sudden aggressive behaviour and looked to the four others as they pried the emotional man off him.

"I'm sorry but I need to know who you are and how you know them first." He stated as he fixed his jacket, trying to sound brave but failing miserably.

"This is Carla _Connor_," Gary answered, "and this is Frank Foster. She was his fiancée but she broke up with him the night before their wedding, so he raped her-"

"-Two months ago?" Dr. Martin interrupted.

Peter cocked his head to the side. "How did you know that?"

"They checked into the resort where I work; I'm the onsite physician. I attended to Miss Gord- err Connor. He told me he was her fiancée, and upon further investigation he admitted that she had been attacked two months prior by an ex-boyfriend. When he wouldn't allow her to undergo hypnosis to draw out her memories, I became suspicious of him and why he didn't want her to remember the rape; but he threatened my job and my licence to practice medicine if I voiced my unfounded concerns." The doctor suddenly found Peter's hands on his collar again.

"And your job was more important than her safety was it?" Peter's face was dangerously close to his own. He could feel the anger radiating off of him as the pungent smell of tobacco burned his eyes.

"I-I was trying to find a way to help her-" he stuttered,

"WHERE IS SHE?" Peter shouted as he shook him harder

"They checked out yesterday. He said he rented a condo for the remainder of their trip-" he was cut off.

"That means they could be anywhere." Ciaran said exasperated.

"Anywhere within the zone located by the GPS signal." Gary corrected.

"They're in that building there." Dr. Martin interrupted pointing to the small building across from the diner. Peter let go of the doctor's collar and the five men turned simultaneously to look at the building, before turning back to look at the shaken physician.

"You knew all along?" Peter questioned.

"Like I said, I was _trying_ to find a way to help her. So I followed them yesterday as they left the resort. I checked into a motel around the corner, and I've been sat here since about 3:00 am." Dr. Martin said hurriedly. "I saw him leave the building about an half an hour ago and wanted to call the authorities but I needed more proof first. He would've found a way to discredit me I was sure of it, and then I wouldn't be any help to her. He's a good liar obviously. But with you all here..." he trailed off, his eyes becoming hopeful

"What are we waiting for?" Dennis stated as he moved towards the door.

"Wait!" they stopped and turned again impatiently towards the doctor, "Let me come with you. She has amnesia and may not remember you all, but she'll know me!" Peter looked at Ciaran and Gary before stepping closer to the doctor.

"Come on then." With that they ran out of the diner, the doctor hot on their heels.

'_I'm coming Carla! Just hold on, love.'_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews! :)**_

* * *

She pulled the butcher knife from the kitchen drawer; her eyes determined despite her trembling hands. He would be back soon and she had no idea what more he had planned for her. Why was he playing the part of the loving fiancée? How could he say he loved her one minute and then break her the next? Would he rape her again and again until she succumbed to him?

She thought about killing herself before he returned to take what he believed was his. It would be so simple: one long cut on both her wrists, or a simple stab in her abdomen and it would be over. But she talked herself out of it; there was the horrible possibility that he would find her, save her life, and she would be branded mentally unstable and possibly driven into his full time care; giving him all the power he needed to take her dignity away over and over.

Oh no, she would not be taken by him again. _Not ever again_.

She held the knife to her chest, feeling its cool blade against her hot skin, and pressed her back against the wall behind the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally preparing herself, as she heard voices in the hallway.

_Did he bring friends with him? Was this some sick, cruel game to further break her? _

She took a deep, shaky breath, as the voices stopped in front of the door. Her body began to shake with adrenaline; she willed herself to not be scared anymore…she had to fight for her life if not her sanity, and for that she would fight him until her last breath. The furious pounding on the door made her crouch slightly, as if readying herself for a battle.

"Foster!" A man's voice yelled, "Open this door now!" She didn't recognize the voice and began to worry about who was coming looking for Frank.

The pounding continued on the door as another voice yelled, "Frank: If you do not open this door I will."

She began to back away from the door, the knife still clutched in her hands. _Who was looking for him? Would they use her as a pawn? _She began to shake with fear as someone on the other side of the door tried the door handle. She came into contact with the couch and slid unceremoniously to the floor. Déjà vu was setting in again as she watched the door shake; she could see the outline of feet beneath the crack of the door and tears flooded her eyes. All the adrenaline and fight in her just moments earlier was replaced with newfound worry. She didn't think she would have been able to fight Frank off on her own in the first place, but she _knew_ she wouldn't be able to take on three or four men. With the knife still in her hands, she raised them to either side of her head, defeated, as she rocked slowly back and forth.

"No, no, no, no…" she mumbled to herself and the pounding on the other side of the door suddenly ceased. She shakily watched the door, breathing deeply in and out, in and out, for what seemed like minutes, praying it was over...

But with one final crash, the door burst open and she let out a strangled cry as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Carla!" someone shouted, as they made their way towards her. She looked up to see five blurred males through her tear-filled vision.

"Don't come near me!" she screamed hysterically as she stuck the knife out in front of her and placed her other hand on the ground beside her to steady herself. The five figures stopped their approach. She blinked hard trying to focus on their faces but she couldn't wash the blurriness that befell her.

"Miss Connor?" she heard a familiar voice state, as his figure approached her tentatively from behind the five men.

"Dr. Martin?" She choked as she lowered the knife. She couldn't make out his features. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head slightly as if to focus her eyesight, but to no avail. She could feel herself falling sideways; her body completely weightless.

"Carla!" Dr. Martin shouted. The last image Carla saw before darkness overtook her, was of the doctor and another man rushing towards her.

* * *

Frank leaned against the side of the condo. He watched Peter, Gary, Dr. Martin and three others run into the building just moments earlier. He angrily kicked the wall, his lips forming a tight line. He had been so close to acquiring exactly what he'd desired ever since he first laid eyes on her. He had underestimated the nerve of the doctor from the resort, but more importantly, he had underestimated Peter Barlow and his love for Carla. He felt the jealousy burning within him at the thought of Peter kissing her, holding her close, making love to her…

"Enjoy your happiness while you can Peter." He whispered maliciously before smirking and pushing himself away from the building, walking towards the bustling boardwalk.

He'd have to lay low for a while, but eventually he'd find a way to make Carla his again…

* * *

Peter sat hunched over in the ER waiting room. His hands cradling his head as he remembered the image of Carla crumpled on the floor of the condo;

_Her face wet with tears, the look of pure fear written across her features, her body shaking uncontrollably as she yelled at them to stay away from her. _

_He rushed towards her as she fainted, holding her unconscious form close to him as if to assure himself she was real. It was then that he noticed the red marks on her wrists._

"_Those weren't there yesterday," Dr. Martin had stated, "Those are fresh; they haven't even begun to purple yet." Peter could hear Ciaran calling for an ambulance, but he was focused on Dr. Martin's administrations to the woman in his arms. _

_The doctor noted the other red marks forming on her upper arms, and on the inside of her thighs. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh._

"_What is it?" Peter could feel the worry behind his eyes. The doctor had simply looked at him sadly._

"_No." Peter shook his head angrily, tears of frustration on the brink of falling, "no, no not again. Tell me he didn't-"_

_Dr. Martin angrily stood up and leaned onto the kitchen counter._

_Peter cradled her closer to his chest, as Ciaran and Gary crouched next to him. "She barely made it through the first time he did this," he whispered choking back a sob, "she barely made it through…"_

"_She's a tough one," he remembered Gary telling him, "And she'll have everyone supporting her through this. And Foster will go down for it for sure this time."_

"_I'm never leaving her side again," He planted a gentle kiss on her head, "You hear me Carla? I'm not leaving you ever again sweetheart."_

Peter jumped from his seat as he saw Dr. Martin and the ER doctor approach.

"Mr. Barlow, Mr. McCarthy, Mr. Windass? I'm Dr. Anderson. Miss Connor is recovering well. The SVU have finished the rape kit, and they will send their results to a DC Malone in Weatherfield, Manchester."

"So he did rape her again?" Gary confirmed.

"All evidence points to that yes." Gary shook his head, looking off to the side as anger coursed through him. Ciaran simply closed his eyes and lowered his head. '_Her mind was still tortured from the first attack,' _he thought to himself,_ 'how is she gonna deal with the second?_

The doctor continued, "There is severe bruising on her wrists and thighs, and ummm, Mr. Barlow? Could I speak with you privately?" the doctor motioned for Peter to follow. When they stood away from the others the doctor continued, "I didn't want to say too much about the extent of Miss Connor's injuries for her privacy, but I'm told you and her are extremely close, so I've chosen to confide this information _solely_ in you,"

Peter swallowed the lump forming in his throat, "I understand, yeah. How bad is it?"

The doctor looked into the man's worried eyes, "obviously you are aware that non-consensual sex often leads to tearing and abrasions in and around a woman's genitalia. Mr. Foster was obviously very rough with her, as she has quite a few lacerations. Now that being said, they should heal within a day or so, but it will undoubtedly be very painful for her. I understand you all are trying to get a flight back to England as soon as?"

Peter couldn't shake the image of Carla being so damaged, but managed to respond to the doctor, "Yes. We feel it is best that she have as much family around to support her as possible."

"That's a good idea," the doctor nodded. "Dr. Martin has offered to spring two first class tickets, for her comfort, for the flight home. He confided in me that he feels guilty over not doing more to stop the unfortunate attack she endured, so if you are willing, I suggest you take the money for the tickets and allow Miss Connor to be as comfortable as possible on the flight home. And I will prescribe some sleeping pills for her to take, but I suggest you stay in charge of them?" Peter nodded his agreement. "Good!" They walked back to where the others stood, "You three can see her now."

He didn't remember the walk to her room; he didn't remember Gary and Ciaran talking to him, trying to reassure him that she'd pull through it. What he did remember was how beautiful she looked when he opened the door and laid eyes upon her.

How could any man want to hurt her? She was beautiful, perfect. He moved to the side of the bed, watching her closely, before taking her hand in his and crouching down to her eye level.

"Carla, sweetheart, I'm so glad we found you love." She looked into his eyes for a moment, before pulling her hand back. It was only then that he noticed the blank look in her eyes and he felt his heart shatter as she asked the question he dreaded hearing,

"Who are you?" she whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and for those who have added this story to their favourites. It is very much appreciated! **_

_**Enjoy! :)**_

* * *

Maria's eyes kept darting to the Bistro door, anxiously waiting for Michelle to return with news from Ciaran. She sat uncomfortably between Helen and Barry as they prattled on about Ireland at Christmastime and how it would be nice to have the Connor family together during the holidays. Maria and Michelle were about to fill her in-laws in on what had happened to Carla when Michelle's phone rang. She went to take the call outside, leaving the hairdresser alone with the two Connors, and she was beginning to feel antsy. Once Michelle was out of earshot, Helen had made it clear that Carla would not be receiving an invitation to Christmas, despite Barry's attempt to rationalize why she should be invited; he had confided in Maria that he was always so fond of Carla and her spunky attitude, and believed her presence might lighten up the somber moods that, even Maria knew, his wife would want the holidays to be; she couldn't take another holiday sitting and staring at the memorials Helen made for her two sons, and believed Barry was feeling the same way; they all needed to move on.

The couple couldn't be any more different…much like their two sons. Liam was like Barry: funny, kind, easygoing, accepting, and forgiving. Paul was like Helen, at least from what Michelle had told her. She never really knew Paul, but if he was anything like his mother she had an understanding of why Carla had such a tumultuous marriage with him. Sure, Helen was kind and loving, but she had a sharp tongue and a sense of superiority over others. She often turned up her nose at those she thought were below her, and would make her distaste for them known through her snarky comments and hurtful words. She would eventually see the error of her ways and apologize, but the damage had already been done; and that was a concept Helen didn't seem to grasp as she would slur another hurtful comment and then attempt to apologize for it later. It was a vicious cycle, and Maria had been on the receiving end of her mother-in-law's rampages when she began seeing Tony; it drove Maria crazy, and Helen_ liked_ her.

She felt a pang of guilt course through her as she imagined how thick Carla must have built the walls around her heart all those years she was dating and then married to Paul; from what Michelle and Liam had told her, Paul, as well as Helen, often put his wife down in front of others. Carla would often fight back with snide remarks, fooling even Michelle and Liam that she had thick skin. But it was only after last year that Michelle realized just how broken Carla truly was. The tough exterior was just a façade; a mask that covered the damaged and insecure woman that lied beneath. Even though Michelle knew Paul adored and loved his wife, his put downs had cut deep with her, making her feel worthless. He would never defend her to his mother as Helen made her snide remarks, even in front of large gatherings of family and friends; he always said he preferred to play the field equally on both sides, but the truth was he couldn't be bothered arguing with his mother. Carla often left the functions by herself and Helen enjoyed throwing that in her face as well; calling her selfish, ungrateful, and an attention whore, not realizing that in actuality Carla left in tears feeling diminished, embarrassed and unwanted. Helen didn't care about Carla's feelings; she was from a rough, lower class background and unworthy of the Connor name; and despite her attempts at being civil with her, she _still _relished in the fact that Carla was on the outside looking in on the Connor family.

Maria took a sip of her white wine, and smiled as Leanne entered the Bistro and greeted the Connors, relieved that she had another buffer for when Michelle returned. She knew Helen despised Carla, and was dreading the conversation; not because of what Helen's reaction would be to the news, but what Michelle's would be in response. Michelle was already on edge with worry and wracked with guilt. She was holding it together at the factory, but Maria knew she wasn't sleeping at night; guilt overtook her every time something would trigger a memory of Carla.

As Leanne took a seat in the booth next to Helen, Nick came over with a menu for her.

"Glass of white Lea?" He asked.

"Uhh yeah, thank you Nick." Leanne smiled uncomfortably. He gave a small nod before walking towards the bar, returning minutes later.

"Ummm look Nick, I'm sorry to hear about you and Eva." She stated abruptly as he poured the wine into her glass. While the comment came out of the blue, Nick's heart fluttered, knowing that somewhere deep in hers, she still cared for him. Nick's lips pressed together and he looked into her eyes.

"Thanks. I think things just moved a bit too quickly you know? The more we spent time together the more we realized we really weren't right for each other." He said quietly, "but thank you."

"You're welcome, and hey if you need a sympathetic ear, I'm here you know." She gave a smile that melted his heart. The conversation piqued the interest of Barry and Helen who watched intently, while Maria kept looking towards the door.

Nick smiled back, "I'll bear that in mind." There was an awkward silence before he broke eye contact with his ex and looked to Maria.

"Any news on Carla?" he asked

Maria looked nervously between Helen, Barry and Leanne before responding, "Ummm, no not yet."

"Oh, has she finally done us all a favour and left the country in repentance for what she did to our Paul and Liam?" Helen spat.

"Helen-" Barry started warningly. As if on cue Michelle rushed back in through the doors.

"They found her!" she cried happily, "They found Carla!"

Nick turned to give her a hug, "Oh, that's great news Michelle, how is she?" Michelle sat down next to her father but before Michelle could answer, Helen interjected:

"Yes darling, do tell us how the drama queen is coping. Did she up and disappear to Spain to get a nice tan while everyone here worries after her?"

"Is she alright?" Maria piped in, pointedly ignoring Helen's comment.

Michelle's eyes flooded with tears and her voice shook as she responded, "She's in 'opsital right now, and she should be released soon, but she still can't remember any of them."

"Wait! Carla's in the hospital?" Barry asked

"Not even Peter?" Leanne piped in, ignoring Barry's question.

"None of them." Michelle accepted the handkerchief that Nick handed to her as he crouched down next to her.

"In that case they should leave her there in blissful oblivion before she ruins someone else's life." Helen muttered, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh Helen, zip it will ya." Maria stated aggressively.

Helen looked to the demure hairdresser over the rim of her glass; her eyebrow rising slightly at the unexpected outburst. She slowly lowered her goblet, fixing Maria with a steely gaze.

"Ohh she's won you over and all with her sob stories has she Maria? I'll hand it to her, she always did have a flair for acting, but I never thought you girls would be so thick as to fall for her tall tales. Well don't you forget that had she not been so selfish as to bewitch our Liam, he'd still be with us today." Helen stated cockily.

"Yeah and if Paul wasn't cheating on Carla for years with prozzies than maybe he'd still be alive and all!" Maria shouted back, the comment making Leanne cringe, and Michelle squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh. The hairdresser and Helen eyes were locked in a stand-off.

"You watch what you say about my son, Maria. My Paul would never have gone off with prostitutes! That's just more of Carla's lies to justify her getting over him as quickly as she did! She never loved him, she just loved his money!"

Nick tried to diffuse the situation that was beginning to draw attention from his other customers, "Alright everyone let's all just calm down-"

"Oh what money mum?" Michelle's eyes were suddenly alit with fire as she slammed her drink down on the table and glared at the older woman, "the money you pretended we had so you could make others around you feel beneath you? Paul didn't acquire his own money until _after_ he and Carla were together. And for the record, he _did_ sleep with escorts and it broke Carla's heart when she caught him. He died because he got caught, got drunk and behind the wheel of a car. He died because _he_ was selfish, not Carla."

"Okay, I think this gentleman here is right and we all need to calm down." Barry interjected firmly, clearly uncomfortable with his family's dirty laundry being aired so publicly. Michelle, Helen and Maria, as if on cue, all crossed their arms stubbornly and continued to glare at each other while Leanne shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"And as for Liam, Helen," Maria continued with a lowered voice, "he was in love with her as much as he was in love with me. And as much as you want to deny it, you know damn well that she was in love with him too. It took me a long time to accept that, but I have and I've forgiven both of them for what they did." She saw Helen open her mouth to protest but cut her off abruptly, "No Helen! They are _both_ to blame for their little trysts with each other. So stop the blame game on Carla 'cause I for one am sick of the record!" She shifted in her seat so she was facing Michelle and her back was to her gobsmacked mother-in-law.

"What of Frank? Did they catch him?" she asked but Michelle shook her head.

"No. He left the condo a half an hour before they got there. He hasn't been found yet."

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Barry stated angrily.

"Carla was engaged to her business partner, a man called Frank Foster." Nick began explaining as he rubbed Michelle's shoulder, "We don't know the full details, but from what we can piece together, she realized that she rushed into the engagement and got cold feet, she broke it off with him the night before the wedding. He wouldn't accept it, and he…" he trailed off, not realizing just how hard it was to say it, "…he raped her, that night in her flat."

"He what?" Barry slammed his fist on the table, causing the wine in the glasses to spill as they rattled from the impact. Helen in the meantime sat in dumbfounded silence, attempting to process what they had just been told.

"It's true, she called me straight away. I'll never forget the way she looked when I arrived there," Maria stated looking intently at her wine glass, "her clothes were torn, she had these bruises all over her wrists, her neck, her thighs, her chest; she had been crying for what looked like hours, and she was in so much pain. She could barely walk to the couch. But she immediately put up her walls when the police arrived, trying again not to let anyone too close to her." In a manner unlike her, Maria downed the remaining wine in her glass as she remembered the night two months prior.

Barry took a deep breath, "Was he arrested?"

"Yeah, he was and charged. But not until he confronted Carla in the factory and threatened her to drop the charges just two days after it happened." Maria bitterly spat out. "Even when he was stewing behind bars she barely pulled herself together," She and Leanne exchanged a knowing glance, before she continued, "She would help with Liam around my flat, playing with him, feeding him, reading to him…but she never left the flat, afraid that he'd have escaped and come for her... just like Tony." Her voice trailed off.

" And just as she was starting to find her feet again, he reapplied for bail and it was granted. He then had his mother act as a proxy at the business. She tormented Carla, trying to discredit her in front of clients and her workers. The poor thing was barely holding it together as it was when Ciaran and I returned from the ships. I've never seen her like that before…she was so broken." Michelle said quietly.

"I've never seen her like that myself." Nick interjected as he sat next to Leanne. "She was trying desperately to find work to keep the factory going while Frank made no bones about telling her clients that she was a mental case. The machinists were on her case, she had Frank's mother tormenting her in the office; she was starting to lose her ropes. The day she came in here to finalize a deal with a client, he used the opportunity to make a move on her; he apparently slid his hand up her thigh and she panicked. She was shaking and panicking and she ran out of the Bistro while we stopped him from following her." He shook his head as the memory of that night came flooding back to him, "She doesn't know, but I followed her out to check on her. She was leaning up against the Kabin, just sobbing. That was the first time I saw her so fragile. I didn't approach her; I just ensured that the client didn't approach her either. A couple of weeks later she was in here eating a meal,"

"The day Peter and I came back." Leanne interrupted.

"Yeah, that day. Again barely holding it together. Next thing I heard she was on a flight to L.A. to clear her mind." Nick finished.

"Yeah, except Frank found out and somehow managed to jump the country without a passport." Michelle continued, "He followed her out there and approached her friend Susie, leaving a message with her that he was Leanne's husband Peter. When Carla found the note that said Peter had stopped by looking for her, she panicked and called Leanne to verify that he was still in Weatherfield, but it was too late; we all heard the struggle on the phone before it went dead." A sob escaped her as she continued, "she hit her head in the struggle and she can't remember anything or anyone. She was released into Frank's care not knowing who he was. Peter, Ciaran and another resident here named Gary flew out to track her down with the help of Gary's army friends who live there. They were searching for days until they happened to acquire the GPS signal from her iPhone. They found her in this beachside condo, on the floor with a knife in her hands threatening them to stay away from her-" she broke off and began crying, "-Ciaran said she had bruises around her wrists and thighs again…"

Maria shook her head in denial, "oh please tell me he didn't 'Chelle," she choked out. Michelle slowly nodded again.

"He attacked her again." She confirmed before being pulled into a hug by her father.

"The poor darlin'. When are they bringing her home?" he asked gently into his daughter's hair.

"As soon as they can get a flight." She answered sitting up straight and sniffling, "Susie is meeting them at the hospital shortly with Carla's suitcase and documents."

"Someone is going to stay with her surely?" Helen suddenly asked.

"I'm staying with her at her flat," Michelle answered, giving her mother a small smile.

"Well then we'll be sure to be there as often as possible to help her through this." Helen stated, wiping the tears from her face. She felt conflicted; one part of her was still angry at Carla for her role in the death of both her sons. But on the other hand the woman had been through an incredible ordeal. Not only did her psychotic ex try to kill her in the factory, but just over a year later, she was raped by her fiancée; not once, but twice. She felt a huge pang of guilt for the first time where Carla was concerned. Maybe by helping her through this nightmare, they could both forgive each other and move on.

Maria smiled and gave Helen's hand a squeeze. Michelle's phone vibrated on the table, and she quickly read the text.

"They got a flight for late this evening, they'll be home tomorrow afternoon." She gave a sigh of relief. By this time tomorrow, she'd have her best friend back and this time, she would be there for her during her recovery.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Thanks to your lovely response to the last chapter, I couldn't resist. Here's another!**_

_**:)**_

* * *

Peter's leg moved up and down with frustration. His fingers drummed anxiously on the pull down tray in front of him, his eyes focused on the curtain towards the front of the plane. Ciaran sat next to him, observing his antsy movements. He hadn't seen Peter this worried in a long time. He reached out his hand and placed it on his friend's knee to stop the jerky movement.

"You're making me motion sick Peter."

"Sorry mate, I just-" he cut off looking to the man in the seat next to him across the aisle drinking a whiskey, "-I could really go for a drink right now you know what I mean?" He exhaled deeply as he shut his eyes and willed his craving to go away.

"Well then I'd say it's time for another orange juice wouldn't you?" Ciaran encouraged.

"Nah, cheers mate, but we'll be arriving in New York soon. I'll get a coffee after our stopover." He looked towards the curtain again, "I wish I knew how she was doing up there."

"Same here. But she seemed to feel more comfortable around Gary when we left the hospital. I think he had a good idea to let him sit with her until our stopover in New York and then switch with you for the rest of the flight. Says he can relate to what she's going through and maybe develop a bit of trust with her, so we can find out exactly what Frank did to her when she was in his care."

"Care," Peter repeated the word venomously, "clutches more like." Ciaran watched as Peter's fist clenched and unclenched. Ciaran sighed and shifted in his seat, leaning closer to Peter.

"Look Peter. I know you're upset about what happened to Carla but you had best calm your emotions before you go up there. You saw the state she was in when we found her. Do you think going up there all tense and angry is going to relax her or push her further away?"

Peter sighed. He knew Ciaran was right, but he just couldn't calm the rage that boiled beneath his skin. Knowing Frank had raped her again simply shattered his heart.

"Seeing her in that flat Ciaran…it brought back all these memories of everything she'd gone through the first time he raped her." He looked down and quietly asked, "Do you know what she said to me the day Frank threatened her in the factory?" upon his friend's silence he continued, "she said that I had chosen wisely by picking Leanne as a partner;" he paused briefly as he remembered her that day in Maria's flat; jumpy, afraid to let him near her, tears falling down her face, her arms hugging her chest protectively "-because on top of everything else wrong in her life, she'd now been ruined."

Ciaran closed his eyes as his head dropped forward. "Poor thing. She can't believe that's true Peter."

"Oh she did, and I think she still does. And to make matters worse, the things Leanne said to her the day she tried to kill herself; calling her a _waste of skin_." He was agitated now; shifting his weight constantly in his seat as anger coursed through his veins. "How many more times is he gonna keep taking from her eh? It's not enough that he took her dignity and her self-respect; Oh no! He needs to turn people against her too, make her sound like a heartless slut. No, he's not going to be happy until he has her completely broken and in his power." His voice took on a more pained tone, "The thing I worry about Ciaran is that it may not take much more to break her spirit completely. What if he comes back and finds her again? What if he does a better job hiding their whereabouts?" he shook his head, "I can't let that happen. I can't let him own her, and I can't let him hurt her again." They sat in silence for a few moments before Ciaran spoke,

"So you've made your decision about Leanne then?" He asked.

Peter waited a few beats before responding quietly, "I have yeah. When we get back and get Carla settled with Michelle, I'm going to break it off with Leanne. I care about her and I love her, I do. But I'm in love with Carla, and I think deep in her heart Lea is still in love with Nick. As much as it pains me to admit it, they work well together, just like Carla and I; we get each other, we understand each other,"

"And you're both stubborn as mules." Ciaran piped in as Peter laughed.

"I think she beats me slightly on the stubbornness scale." He joked

"She's been hanging around Michelle too long…rubbed off on her." Ciaran laughed as he sat back, glad that his friend began to ease up, but he knew what was really bothering his best friend. "She'll be alright Peter. She will remember you trust me! It'll come back to her as soon as she is able to relax a little more."

At Peter's slight nod, Ciaran changed the tone of the conversation, "Okay! We're going to land in New York soon, let's play a few rounds of poker." He pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them. As Ciaran dealt the cards, Peter glanced back to the curtain separating them from the First Class passengers, wondering how Carla was holding up.

* * *

She knew why she felt an attachment to the red-headed man upon leaving the hospital. It was the way he looked at her; as if understanding when she needed to be helped and when she needed to be left alone. While Ciaran, Peter and Susie kept trying to help her by touching her, whether by placing a comforting hand on her arm, or by offering her help out of the bed, Gary seemed to recognize her desire to do things on her own and encouraged the others to back off slightly. Throughout the majority of the flight to New York, he simply sat next to her, insisting they watch a funny movie if she was sure she didn't want to sleep. Deciding on _The Hangover_, they plugged in their earphones and watched the movie in near silence, laughing at the hilarity of the storyline. It didn't go unnoticed by him that everytime the word "rape" was brought up, she cringed; her features grew pale and her eyes became damp with moisture. It was short-lived though, as another incident would befall the three men and she'd catch herself laughing out loud; a laugh that Gary had to admit was both contagious and heartwarming. _'Laughter really is the best medicine, Carla,'_ he had said to her before the movie started, and she was beginning to think he was right.

They were sat in the plane as it was docked at JFK airport in New York. As they awaited for the final passengers to board the plane, they engaged in mindless small talk about the movie, and his life. He assumed that the last thing she wanted to do on their journey to New York was talk about what had happened to her. He would rather leave that to Peter as he could offer a better understanding of her relationship with Frank Foster. He simply wanted to make her feel at ease, and release some of the tension that befell her. He couldn't help noticing how drawn and tired she looked.

"Are you sure you don't want to get some rest Carla? Just two sleeping pills and you'll fall asleep and wake up back in Manchester." Gary tried to convince the obviously exhausted woman next to him to get some sleep. She gently shook her head and smiled at his kindness. "You're exhausted Carla. You've been through a lot this last week. You won't be doing yourself any favours by forcing yourself to stay awake," he pressed further.

"The truth is Gary, I'm afraid to fall asleep." Her voice was so small; she leaned her head on the seat, her body turned towards his, her knees drawn into her chest; this wasn't the strong Carla Connor he often saw strolling into the factory or pub; "I see him everywhere. I see his face when I close me eyes, I hear his voice inside my head taunting me; I'm afraid he's somewhere on this plane just waiting for me to let my guard down. I thought sleep would be the time I'd escape it all when i was in the hospital, but then he'd appear…and I'd relive the whole thing over and over again. The deeper I fall asleep, the harder it is for me to wake up from it; and the longer and more torturous the nightmare becomes. I just want to stay awake until I am somewhere where I can lock the doors and feel somewhat safe before I succumb to my hellish dreams."

"I know how you feel." He whispered as he shifted his body to face her.

"Do you?" there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. How could anyone understand how she felt when she wasn't even sure of how she felt herself. She had so many emotions running through her body she felt as though she would implode.

"Well sort of." He answered giving her a small smile. "See when I was on duty in Afghanistan last year, my unit hit a roadside bomb and I was injured as a result. Quite a few of the troops were killed including my best mate Quinny. As a result I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." Carla looked at him more intently as he continued, "My mind was a jumble of emotions, and I lashed out at everyone around me. Things would trigger these memories of being in the accident and I would lose it. I couldn't close my eyes as I'd relive everything. I couldn't sleep without having nightmares, and everywhere I went I was terrified that a terrorist was going to jump out from behind a tree, or building, and end my life."

"How did you get through it?" she asked quietly.

"I had my family, and my friends to help me through it. Sure I'd relapse here and there until I got proper counseling, but it was their support that got me through it. And believe me Carla, you've got tons of support from people around you. Now there is one bloke sitting back there that cares about you a lot." He said as he jabbed his thumb over shoulder. "He came all the way out to L.A. to find you and bring you home safely. He knows everything you've been through more than I do, and he can help you try to piece together what happened two months ago. But when it comes to post-traumatic stress, just know that I understand what you're going through, and I'll be around if you ever need a chat okay?"

"Okay. Does that mean you two will be switching now?"

"It does indeed," he stated as he rose from his seat, "as much as it pains me to leave such a gorgeous passenger to sit with an Irishman who will undoubtedly want to play poker the whole way back, duty calls." She gave a small laugh, and he reached for her hand, careful not to aggravate the purple bruises around her wrist as he gently kissed her hand. "See you in a few hours Carla." he turned to leave, when he heard her call to him,

"Gary? It is apparent that this Izzy you told me about would be one very lucky girl to have found someone like you. Promise me you'll try to win her back yeah?"

"Anything for you Miss Connor." He winked and headed back towards Peter and Ciaran.

Carla smiled to herself as she snuggled into her seat. She closed her eyes not realizing how heavy her eyelids were. Before she could stop herself, she fell into a slumber...

* * *

"She doesn't want to sleep. Says it brings about the nightmares. She's worrying that he could be anywhere; sitting on the plane, hiding in the loo, waiting for her to let her guard down. She says she wants to sleep when she's confident she can lock her doors and feel a little safe." Gary had been filling in Peter and Ciaran on Carla's condition for the past 10 minutes. "But she's exhausted. She may drift off before we make it to Manchester airport."

"How is she otherwise?" Ciaran asked

"Still a little jumpy, but she is coming around slowly. Just know that she wants to feel like she has some control. She wants to do some things on her own without feeling like she is being coddled. Apparently he was treating her like she was a porcelain doll; not letting her get out of bed by herself, bathe by herself," Peter felt his fists clench unconsciously at the thought of Frank leering at a naked Carla in the tub, "or walk about by herself. So I think too much fussing will make her antsy."

Gary felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see an elderly woman standing behind him, "I'm sorry my dear, but I think your wife is having a terrible nightmare, she's thrashing about and we can't seem to wake her up."

Peter felt his heart thundering in his chest as he dashed towards the front of the plane, Ciaran and Gary on his heels. The sight before them stalled them briefly; Carla was now awake and sat upright in the chair, curled into a tight ball; her arms pulled her knees in closer to her and her head was pressed into her kneecaps. She was rocking slowly back and forth and the crowd around just stood and stared, unable to help the woman before them.

Peter immediately fell to his knees in front of her and tentatively called her before touching her. "Carla?"

"Please don't touch me." She choked out as a sob escaped her and she crumpled further into her chair. Ciaran and Gary dispelled the crowd and airline staff as Peter tried to reach her again,

"Sweetheart, it's Peter. Please look at me?" His voice was gentle and something about the raw tenderness in it made her look up. Her face was wet with tears and her lips trembled as she fought the urge to cry. "It's okay. You're safe here. Is it okay if I sit next to you?" She nodded her agreement and he moved to sit beside her as a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking: we will be departing for Manchester airport via Gatwick in a few moments. Please kindly return your seats to their upright positions, assure all bags are packed safely in the overhead compartment or under the seat in front of you, and please fasten your seatbelts."

Ciaran and Gary returned back to the seats in Economy as Peter called the stewardess over. "Ma'am I'm sorry for the trouble but, " he indicated towards Carla, "is it possible to get a ginger ale before take off?"

The stewardess looked at the broken woman to his side and nodded. "I'll be right back."

Peter turned back to Carla, "He was here." She said shakily, her eyes blankly staring forward, not needing him to prompt her to talk about it, "He was here and he had me pi-pinned down to my seat and no one around me could hear me crying for help." She turned her face to his and he felt a sharp pain stab through his heart at the helplessness in her eyes. "Why did he do this to me?" her voice cracked. Peter reached over and pulled her close to him, rocking her softly and stroking her hair, "Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

"Shhhh, it's okay baby," he whispered into her hair, "he's not here and I promise I won't let him get anywhere near you ever again." He kissed her head and felt her wrap her arms tightly around him, pressing herself closer into him as she cried softly into his shoulder.

"I promise Carla. No one is going to hurt you again."


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: Thanks again for the lovely reviews! You are all so very kind!**_

_**Please note this chapter is rated M for mature subject matter and references to rape.**_

_**I know, I know... I hate doing this to poor Carla, but it is necessary for the story to move forward.**_

_**:(**_

* * *

"Hey sleeping beauty," she heard a soft voice whisper as her shoulder was given a gentle shake, "time to wake up." Her eyes fluttered open and it took her several minutes to remember where she was. She felt a hand gently stroke her hair and realized she was nestled under Peter's arm, her head resting between his chest and his shoulder.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked groggily, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes.

"For the entire flight back." He smiled down at her as he continued to stroke her hair. "You looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you. You must have really needed the sleep because you didn't even wake up when we touched down." She carefully pushed herself to a sitting position, grimacing slightly and hissing in sudden discomfort.

Peter immediately reached over for her, "Hey, are you okay?" he asked reaching around her shoulders, but she flinched away from him.

"I'm fine." She snapped in annoyance. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, raising her fingers to massage her forehead.

"Sorry," she breathed out, "I'm just getting a little annoyed with the discomfort. I feel like every part of my body and mind is just stretched so thin." Her voice sounded so small; he wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him, wrap his arms around her and hug her pain away. She ran her fingers through her hair before looking over at him suddenly worried, "When I was sleeping, I didn't make a scene did I?"

"Not at all." He replied as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Well that's a relief, I think I've embarrassed meself enough on this flight before we left New York." She covered her mouth as a yawn escaped her, "You must be a sandman or miracle worker or something," She smiled softly at him, "I don't think I've slept that well in a long time." As he gazed at her, offering her a crooked smile in return, she felt a sudden heat pulse through her cheeks and bashfully averted her eyes.

She watched as other passengers began to file out of the plane. "Do you think there is anyone waiting for me out there?" She nodded her head in the direction of the airport.

"I reckon there's a few, yeah. Your sisters-in-law Michelle and Maria will be out there for sure. They've been so worried about you, love." Peter watched her expressionless reaction to the news as she simply nodded her head in response and he wished he could read what she was thinking in that moment. He leaned in closer to her, "Hey, it may take some time, but I promise you everything will be okay sweetheart-"

She closed her eyes, shaking her head softly as she winced at the name, "Please…don't call me that." She whispered firmly. "_He_ called me that." She looked at him, her eyes wet with unfallen tears, "I ju-just can't hear it without feeling sick to my stomach."

"Okay." His heart broke seeing the emotion behind her eyes, "Okay I'm sorry." He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze as a flight steward approached them.

"We're ready to take you out now Miss Connor." He stated kindly. Carla looked between him and Peter with confusion etched on her features.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." She said.

"We have a wheelchair waiting just outside the doors-" he began but he was cut off as Carla shook her head incessantly and squeezed her eyes shut.

"No. No, I will not be rolled out of here like some invalid. I can walk out on me own." She ground out in frustration.

"Miss Connor I'm afraid I must insist. We were given direct orders from your attending physician in L.A. It is a long way from the gate to customs. This is more for your comfort than anything else." The steward responded calmly.

"This is ridiculous-"she breathed as she buried her head in her hands. _'He just keeps taking from me.'_ She thought despairingly.

"Look Carla, I think you'd be helping us all out if you just take the wheelchair," Peter stated.

"Oh? And why's that?" she spat bitterly, not lifting her head from her hands

"Because then we'd all get through customs a lot quicker." She finally looked to him with a quizzical expression, and he smiled and winked at her. She stifled a laugh and a smile crept across her features.

"Fine." She sighed. "Okay Jeeves," she said to the flight attendant, "You're on." Peter chuckled at her dry humour as he gently helped her up. As she straightened into a standing position she felt a sharp pain course through her lower body. Though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was suddenly grateful for the mode of transportation that awaited her outside the airplane doors. Peter grabbed her purse and followed her out of the plane to where Ciaran and Gary stood next to the wheelchair.

"Alright then Lady Penelope," Gary started as he helped her sit in the chair, not missing her wince in pain as she did so, "you may not get to choose your method of transport but you do get your choice of driver."

She smiled, "Well considering you and Peter have already been punished enough with taking care of the emotional wreck, I'd say it's only fair that it's your turn," she looked at Ciaran.

"Eh! They's got to sit in first class and look after the emotional wreck while I sat back there in coach in front of a kid who used my chair as a punchin' bag." Ciaran joked. She curled her finger at him, motioning for him to lean in closer. When he leaned in close she whispered,

"Well, you see the person who wheels me out of here, gets to go through customs faster than the other two. See? All the payoffs and none of the emotional stuff. And I may be obliged to give you this bottle of champagne that Dr. Martin gave me before we left L.A., as a token of my appreciation."

"Ahhh you're a woman after me own heart Carla my dear. If things don't work out between me and your Michelle, you best be expectin' a knock on your door!" he gave her a wink before grabbing the handles of the wheelchair; she smiled and chuckled softly before he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "As if I'd really need an excuse to wheel a gorgeous thing like you around Manchester airport."

"Ready?" Peter asked her.

She took a deep breath and nodded, "Ready."

"Hang on!" Ciaran laughed as he popped the front wheels off the ground, extracting a slight yelp of surprise from his passenger, before heading up the hallway and into the crowded airport.

* * *

Michelle stood with her arms crossed and her foot tapping as she watched the stream of passengers walk into the kiss and cry area. Maria stood next to her holding Liam's hand.

"Do you think Carla will be up for visitors?" the blonde asked the antsy brunette, "I mean, do you think we should of told Barry and Helen to wait until tomorrow to come over to Carla's?"

"Do you think mum would have listened either way?" Michelle retorted.

"Ah you've got a point there. She is putting in the effort I gotta hand it to her; picking up groceries to cook us all tea."

"Well let's just hope that when she says 'bury the hatchet' she doesn't mean into Carla's back." Michelle said sarcastically. Her face suddenly lit up, "There they are!" She waved her arm in the air to get the attention of the three men. As they inched closer she broke into a run towards them as sobs suddenly escaped her, dropping to her knees before the wheelchair and pulling the shocked woman into a warm embrace.

"Car, I'm so sorry love! I never should of convinced you to go to L.A. on your own! I'll never forgive meself for what that bastard's done to you!" she pulled back to look into her best friends eyes, only to be met with a blank expression. "I'm so glad you're home!" she said in an attempt to draw some response from her.

"Ummm sorry, are you Michelle or Maria?" Carla asked nervously, and Michelle felt her heart break as she exchanged a glance with Peter. She wiped the tears away from her face and forced a smile,

"I'm Michelle, love." She said as she grasped her friends' hands in her own. She motioned to the woman beside her, "this is Maria, and your little nephew Liam."

"Hi." Carla smiled at the two. Maria nudged her son forward and he handed Carla the bouquet of flowers he had clenched into his little fist.

"Oh, they are beautiful Liam." She said looking into his blue eyes that seemed so familiar to her. He smiled and played curiously with the arm of her wheelchair.

"Come on Car, let's take you home." Michelle stated as she rose to her feet, pausing to pull her fiancée a passionate kiss.

"Steve and Lloyd are outside with the cabs." Maria stated grasping Liam's hand in hers.

"Do you want to sit on here with me?" Carla asked the little boy who continued to play with the wheelchair. He nodded and she gingerly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her lap.

"Oh I see, so I've got another passenger to push around now eh?" Ciaran joked to little Liam, as Carla looked up at him and smiled. Maria nudged Michelle, nodding her head in the direction of Carla's arms that were wrapped around her son.

Michelle couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her as she saw the deep purple bruising around her best friend's wrists. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and excused herself,

"I'm just going to hail Steve and Lloyd down." She said, her voice cracking with emotion, as she headed for the sliding doors. She stood outside, taking deep breathes to calm her racing heart and willed the tears to stop falling. She couldn't let Carla see her breaking; she needed to be strong for her. She saw Steve and Lloyd, giving them a nod that signaled they were ready to head back, and pulled out her mobile.

* * *

Carla stood in the flat leaning on the kitchen counter, staring at the front door. Unbeknownst to her, Michelle had rung her parents from the airport, stating that they best not make their way over until later that evening as Carla still didn't remember anything and she didn't want to overwhelm her. With a final hug to Gary, Ciaran and Peter on the promise of seeing them tomorrow, she had made her way up the stairs, little Liam holding her hand, with Michelle and Maria leading the way. Upon arriving in her flat she looked around, trying desperately to remember something about it but to no avail. Michelle had taken her suitcase to start a load of laundry, while Maria stood next to her in the kitchen making them all coffee. Carla couldn't tear her eyes from the door, and was unsure why. She felt Maria place a steaming mug of coffee into her hands and smiled graciously at her.

"Cheers love." She thanked the younger woman, and took a minute to glance over to where her nephew sat playing with his toys. "He's absolutely gorgeous Maria."

"Oh yeah he's gorgeous now, but let's see how you feel when he's ripping through your bathroom placing all your tampons in the bathtub like they're missiles."

Carla laughed out loud, as she continued to look lovingly at him, "I can't stop looking into his eyes." She said quietly as she looked back to Maria, "they look so familiar to me." Maria couldn't help the twinge of jealousy she felt at the confession. She knew Carla loved Liam but hadn't really realized how deep the love actually went. The fact that she, even through her amnesia, could find familiarity in her son's eyes proved just how strong her feelings were for her deceased lover. Peter mentioned that she remembered Frank was the one who raped her several months earlier; surely if that was the traumatic memory she was suppressing then remembering it would have caused her to remember everything else as well. Such was not the case though. As Carla stood there taking a sip of her coffee and looked back towards the door, Maria began to wonder if Liam wasn't both the reason for her suppressed memories, and the key to unlocking them again. She was shaken out of her thoughts upon the sound of a mug smashing into pieces on the floor.

The hot liquid splashed and trickled in all directions, and Carla crumpled to the ground beneath her, her hand landing on a sharp shard of ceramic, slicing her delicate skin. Her breathes were rapid, shallow, and her body began to convulse in shakes; she could not hear Maria calling her; she could not feel hands on her shoulders. All she could see was the front door as a memory came flooding back to her,

_"Okay! I want you to go now!"_

_She went to open the door but Frank reached over her shoulder and furiously slammed the door shut, before forcefully turning her around to face him, slamming her body back into the closed door; his body pressing against hers angrily. For a moment she stared into his dark eyes and cowered under his gaze. _

'_This is it' she thought, 'this is how I'm going to die.' _

_But that wasn't what he had in mind. Without warning, Frank threw her viciously to the floor and she attempted to crawl away from him, but he grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her furiously back towards him, flipping her over onto her back and pinning her beneath him. _

_Her eyes widened in fear as his hand tugged at her skirt, "Frank, please don't-" she begged him, as she realized exactly what he intended to do. He was easily overpowering her small frame; ripping her shirt open with one hand and pinning her wrist down with the elbow of his other arm. She meekly pushed against him with her free hand, but he would simply swat it away as he laid bruising kisses down her neck and chest. _

_There was no adrenaline pumping through her veins any longer; no fight-or-flight response: she was simply in shock. He laid a bruising kiss on her lips as his free hand unzipped his pants and began hiking her skirt up. She started to wriggle beneath him,_

"_No, no please don't do this." She pleaded with him as tears continued to fall down her face. He suddenly stopped, still pinning her wrist down with his elbow as he stared down into her terrified face._

"_Why did you do this to me Carla, why?" his voice sounded tortured and angry and his eyes full of hurt, "I love you, why don't you love me?"_

"_I do Frank. Please just stop-" she begged him_

"_But you love him more," his eyes turned angry again,_

"_No, it's not like that! Please Frank you're terrifying me, please get off me-"_

"_Say it!" he demanded _

"_Wh-what?" she choked as a sob escaped her._

"_Tell me you that you love me."_

_She took a shaky breath before saying sincerely, "I love you, Frank." She hoped it would make him stop. She hoped it would make him realize what he was doing. But his eyes darkened as he leaned in close to her face again,_

"_You're lying to me." He stated menacingly,_

_She shook her head furiously, "No, no I'm not, Frank please don't-"_

"_You've been lying to me from the beginning. You can't get him out of your head eh?" She felt his hand reach up under her skirt and hover over her underwear. He leaned in closer to her and moved his head to the side of hers, whispering menacingly into her ear, "Well I will!" he viciously ripped her underwear off and she screamed in fear. He silenced her with another bruising kiss, and as she struggled to get free he pried her legs open with his knee. She began to cry against his lips, squeezing her eyes shut, bracing for what was to come when he stopped again, his hand gripping her thigh. Her wrist was pinned above her head, and he reached out his hand and stroked her hair almost lovingly. _

"_Open your eyes sweetheart." he ordered her and in spite of herself she found herself obeying, praying that he had come to his senses. He stared into her eyes for a moment, relishing in her beauty and fragility, before a sneer formed across his lips and he thrust into her, his hand moving to cover her mouth as she screamed into his hand, her back arching in agony. He continued to kiss her neck and chest as he thrust into her trembling form over and over again…_

"Carla!" Michelle shook her shoulders as she crouched in front of her. Carla's eyes, now wet with tears finally focused on Michelle's. She had not heard the knocking at the door, had not seen Barry and Helen enter the flat; she still couldn't see them standing behind Michelle taking in the scene before them.

"It was here, he raped me here." She said shakily, her lips trembling as she pressed them together. "It was in my own home…Oh God, it was in my own home…" she sobbed as Michelle, her own eyes filled with tears, pulled Carla's head towards her, burying it into her shoulder as she stroked her hair. She rocked the woman in her arms as the two of them cried.

Helen leaned into her husband, her hand covering her mouth as tears began to flood down her face as well. Little Liam sat in his corner playing with his toys, untouched and oblivious by what had just happened.

Barry held his wife to him, watching as Maria went over and wrapped her arms around her sisters-in-law; coffee and shards of ceramic surrounded the three women; Carla's blood pooled under her hand and oozed it's way through the liquid on the floor; its presence, like the memory that flooded back to Carla, staining the happy reunion.


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N: Thanking you all from the bottom of my heart for the reviews! I'm glad you are enjoying this story as much I am writing it. **_

_**:)**_

* * *

Barry descended the stairs at Carla's leaving his wife, Maria, and Michelle upstairs as they discussed wedding details.

He placed his hands on his hips and gave a quick look around the flat, remembering the events that occurred there just a few short hours ago. He exhaled a long deep breath;

He needed a drink.

He walked to the bar cabinet that sat adjacent to the kitchen, where a bottle of Irish whiskey and multiple tumblers lay neatly on its surface. He smiled at the bottle; it was his son Paul's favourite whiskey. He opened the cabinet and saw another two bottles tucked away, including an empty one with a ribbon and tag around it. He carefully pulled it out curiously and read the card,

_To my big brother Paul and his gorgeous wife Carla,_

_Happy housewarming! When you become big shot high rollers, do us a favour and try not to forget us little people!_

_P.S. Car, best way to my brother's heart is through his whiskey. Always leave a bottle or two of this around, for when I pop over. I'll be sure to drink him under the table so he'll stop nagging at ya!_

_Love always,_

_Liam_

Barry smiled and carefully placed the bottle back in the cabinet. He took a tumbler and poured himself a shot of the amber liquid. He paused as he held it in his hands, glancing over to where, just hours earlier, Paul's widow sat breaking down in his daughter's arms. When she realized there were two more people in her flat, she immediately cowered behind Michelle, furiously wiping away the tears that fell down her face, as if she was embarrassed by her breakdown. Blood streamed down her hand and wrist and Maria hurriedly applied some gauze and pressure to it.

He and Helen simply stood in shock as Michelle introduced them to her. She looked at them as if they were strangers, and he felt his heart sink upon realizing that she did not recognize them. He had watched Carla grow up before his eyes; from a shy but tough girl from the estates, to the strong woman who faced down her murderous ex-husband just a year prior; but he had only seen seen her look this vulnerable once before; the night they buried Paul...

She began apologizing profusely to them all for being such an emotional wreck and she asked Maria for a towel so she could clean the mess she clumsily made. Instead Barry reached over and helped Carla to her feet, feeling her body shake with sobs as she tried to suppress the urge to continue crying; he gave her a reassuring smile, telling her they would clean up the mess before guiding her into her bedroom followed closely by Michelle. After he helped her sit on the bed, he gave Michelle's hand a reassuring squeeze and walked back into the main room to check on his grandson.

Carla remained in there for the remainder of the evening, coming out briefly to apologize for her absence as she poured herself a glass of water. Helen rose from the dining room table, where they were sat eating dinner, pulling the woman into a hug, saying that no apology was needed, and that whenever she was hungry there was a casserole in the oven for her. Smiling her appreciation Carla wandered back into the bedroom, wincing with every step she took. After dinner, they decided to spend a few hours discussing plans for Michelle's wedding out of earshot of Carla in case she had drifted off.

Shaking his head sadly, he quickly downed the whiskey in his hand, before refilling the tumbler with a generous double. As he placed the bottle back on the cabinet, he heard a noise come from Carla's bedroom. He picked up his tumbler and quietly walked to the door, leaning his ear in close to listen. Carla was sobbing softly. He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward at the sound; memories from five years prior flooding back to him.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He gave a gentle knock on the door before carefully pushing it open and peering in. She was on her side, hugging a pillow to her, as tears slid down her face. Crumpled tissues were scattered around her. She looked towards the door, and hurriedly wiped the tears from her face as she sat up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was still here," she sniffled as she wiped her eyes, and reached to gather all the strewn tissues, "it was so quiet out there, I thought you all might have left."

"No, no darlin'. No one is gonna leave you here all on your own. Especially not after what you've just been through." Barry said gently as he stepped closer to the bed. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy Carla my love, I just wanted to check up on you, see if you wanted a wee chat?" He motioned to the bed, and she nodded softly.

"You know, I remember the first time we came to visit you and our Paul here." He said as he removed his shoes, and sat down on the bed next to her; he leaned back against the pillows and stretched out his legs on the plush comforter, "it hasn't changed much since you first moved in." He stated as he looked about the room, before reaching over to the bedside table and picking up the photo of Carla and his son. "You two always were a gorgeous couple." He smiled as he looked fondly at the picture. Carla leaned in to look at the photo in his hands, having not noticed it prior.

"Paul was my first husband." It wasn't asked as a question, and he looked curiously at her, wondering if she remembered. She looked into his warm hazel eyes, before pressing her lips together and looking away, "umm, _he-"_ she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat,_ "-_Frank told me that I was married twice before." She looked at the picture in Barry's hands. "We look happy." She smiled. "Were we happy?" she asked him.

"Yes you were." He answered genuinely. "You two were very passionate, fiery even; you's fought like cats and dogs but you would kill for each other. My son was always a bit of an arrogant arse," he laughed, "but you knew how to bring him down to earth. You were the best thing that ever happened to our Paul. Put him in his place you did, and he adored you for it."

"I wish I could remember him." She whispered as she ran a finger over his image.

"You will darlin'. A love like that doesn't just up and disappear." He said gently, "it's just buried in a cocoon, somewhere in there," he pointed to her heart, "and it'll come out when it's ready too."

"Like a butterfly." She smiled, as she hugged the pillow against her, leaning her head to rest on it.

"Just like you. You were always like a caterpillar Carla my love. You wandered around slightly unsure of yourself, feeling awkward, no self-confidence, didn't know what was to become of you but somehow feeling like you didn't quite belong. And then one day you emerged out of your shell as a butterfly; full of confidence, full of beauty, and knowing you could be only whatever you _believed_ yourself to be." He held her gaze as he reached out and stroked her cheek, "Don't let him put you back in that cocoon darlin'. You were always meant to fly through life, not crawl along it." He wiped the tear that trickled down her cheek before opening his arms, motioning for her to tuck in. She felt slightly apprehensive, but his eyes looked so gentle and she felt a natural closeness to him. She shuffled closer to him, placing the pillow she was clutching behind her and curled into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair, resting his cheek on her head. He remembered the last time he held Carla to him like this. It occurred just after Paul's funeral…

_It was three in the morning and he was restless. He was on his way downstairs to get a drink, when he paused outside Paul's bedroom upon hearing a soft sob. He peered into the room to see Carla sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching one of Paul's dress shirts close to her, breathing in its scent as tears fell down her face. She was still in the dress she had worn to the funeral earlier that day. _

_He knocked gently and entered the room. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she did not make a move to wipe the tears that fell. She simply looked up at him, in obvious despair._

"_Can't sleep either my darlin'?" he asked as he sat next to her. She shook her head in response, her lips trembling as she rubbed them together. _

"_If I can't wake up with Paul next to me, I don't want to ever fall asleep again." She said in a quiet voice._

"_You know he'd not want you to grieve for him Carla. He'd want you to remember why it was you fell in love with him, and cherish all the happy times you had together."_

_She nodded but a sob escaped her lips, "God, I miss him so much." _

_He pulled her towards him, resting her head on his shoulder as he stroked her back, "hey now, it's okay darlin'. Everything will be okay." He whispered into her hair. _

_He looked up to see his son Liam standing in the doorway, his eyes as red and puffy as Carla's, and he too was still in the suit he wore to the funeral. He looked sadly upon the woman in his father's arms, but Barry knew there was more behind the look than just sympathy for his brother's widow. Barry knew and recognized the looks Liam had towards Carla since they were children. He noted the jealousy in his eyes when his brother was affectionate with her, and the slight happiness that flashed in his eyes when they would bicker. He saw the longing in Liam's eyes as he gazed upon her even now, and the guilt that accompanied it. _

_Barry motioned for him to take his place. Liam sat on the bed, leaning against the pillows, and stretching his legs out. He reached forward a pulled a crying Carla out of his father's arms and into his own. She curled into him, resting her head onto his shoulder, still gripping Paul's shirt to her chest and sobbing into Liam's. Liam's face scrunched up as he too began to cry, clutching his brother's widow to him tightly as she broke down. Barry rose from the bed and made his way to the kitchen, sitting at the table and burying his head in his hands, finally allowing the tears to escape his eyes over the loss of his eldest son._

_An hour later he ascended the stairs again, peering into Paul's bedroom and smiling at the scene. Carla had drifted off; she was still curled into Liam's side, her leg entwined around his. Liam's cheek rested against her head, his right arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and his left arm cradling her head; his thumb gently stroking her cheek. His eyes were closed as he swayed gently, humming a familiar tune to her. Barry __knew the scene was an innocent one, but he also knew it was fueled by something more powerful than either of the two would be able to admit to themselves. He also knew that Carla would not be able to deal with another of__ Helen's trademark outbursts if she wandered past them that night, and so he _closed the door to the bedroom. 

Barry smiled at the memory. He could hear his son's gentle humming as clear as if he were currently sitting in the room with them; and he began to sing the tune softly,

_**I wish I was in Carrickfergus**_

_**Only for nights in Ballygrand**_

_**I would swim over the deepest ocean**_

_**The deepest ocean for my love to find**_

_**But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over**_

_**And neither have I the wings to fly**_

_**I wish I had a handsome boatman**_

_**To ferry me over my love and I…**_

Carla sighed deeply, slowly drifting off into a peaceful slumber. Outside the bedroom door, Michelle had descended the stairs and leaned the side of her body against the red and black wallpaper, peering into Carla's room taking in the scene before her. A smile graced her face, as she listened to her father sing his former daughter-in-law to sleep. She glanced to the stairs where Maria and Helen now sat, listening to Barry's voice as it drifted through the flat…

_**My childhood days bring back sad reflections **_

_**Of happy times there spent so long ago **_

_**My boyhood friends and my own relations **_

_**Have all past on now with the melting snow **_

_**So I'll spend my days in this endless roving **_

_**Soft is the grass and shore, my bed is free **_

_**Oh to be home now in Carrickfergus **_

_**On the long rode down to the salty sea **_

_**I wish I was in Carrickfergus,**_

_**To be together my love and I.**_

_**I wish I was back home again.**_

Barry leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on the top of Carla's head, before bringing his glass to his lips and sipping some of the liquid down.

He wished his sons were alive again, and that all the pain the Connor family had experienced in the years since Dean's tragic death would just magically fall away. He made eye contact with his daughter who stood in the doorway and he smiled. He still had his daughter, his two daughters-in-law, and his two grandsons; all of them loving reminders of the two sons and the son-in-law he lost tragically.

He glanced down to the sleeping woman in his arms. He couldn't allow her to forget Paul or Liam.

Somehow, he had to help her remember the two men who loved her so much…


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews!**_

_**Hope you all enjoy! :D**_

* * *

"Mum!" Simon yelled happily as he ran towards Leanne. A smile crossed her face as she bent down and scooped him into her arms.

"Hiya love! How is school?"

"It's great! We're practicing for the Christmas pageant, you're still gonna come right?" he answered her quickly. Leanne glanced up as Peter approached them, still kneeling in front of the little boy she'd grown to love as her own. It had been almost two weeks since he returned from L.A.; two weeks since the night they sat Simon down and told him his parents were splitting up.

"Well if your dad still wants me too." She responded to Simon, unsure of the role Peter wanted her to play in his young son's life.

"Of course I want you to Lea." Peter stated genuinely, "you're still his step-mum. I think it would be nice if we all went together, yeah?" he said giving Simon a nudge.

"Could we?" Simon looked to Leanne happily. She couldn't say no to his sweet little face.

"I think that's a great idea!" she responded with a smile, accepting the bear hug Simon pulled her in. "So where are you two off to then?" she asked as she stood up.

"We're going to visit dad's friend Carla." Simon quickly answered. Leanne's face fell upon hearing the name, but it was replaced with concern at the look on Peter's face.

"Si, why don't you go to the Kabin and get some sweets for Carla and Liam, eh?" Peter said, handing his son a £10 note."

"Do you know what she likes?" Simon asked him

Leanne leaned down to Simon's level, "Anything with chocolate; but not straight chocolate; something chocolate-covered," she whispered smiling as she remembered her former friend's preference for sweets.

"Cool!" He said and he ran to the Kabin.

"How is she doing?" she asked Peter, the concern was evident in her voice.

Peter sighed and shook his head, "Not too good Lea. She's not been sleeping very well; Michelle says she's been having nightmares. She wakes up screaming and in a cold sweat and then refuses to fall back asleep again. She's not been eating much either." He rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"She still doesn't remember anything then?" she asked.

"Only what Frank did to her and that it was in her home, but she doesn't know why." He mumbled. "She hasn't really left the flat and has been looking after Liam today, so I figured Si and I would visit with her to make sure she's okay."

"I was going to pop in on her in a few hours. Nick is going over to talk to Michelle about some orders for Underworld; he's been helping her out since the whole L.A. thing, and I thought it would be a good time to visit with Carla."

"So you and he…" he trailed off

"Not quite." She said shaking her head. "He's given me a job in the Bistro so I can save some money to get my own place. We're just friends for the time being. I'm not really wanting to rush into anything at the moment."

"I still love you, you know. I care about you a lot Lea." He told her, his voice filled with emotion.

"And I still love you Peter. But I think we made the right decision in the end. I think deep down we know our hearts belong to others. I think that's why I took out so much of my anger on Carla this last year. I was just insecure about my own feelings and I, like you, was trying to suppress them down for Simon's sake."

"So we can still be friends then?" he asked giving her a smile.

"If you're up to the challenge." She teased him

"Always." He reached out and pulled her into a hug, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "Besides, I want Simon to see you as much as possible. I was thinking you could take him for a few nights a week? When you get settled I mean."

"I'd really like that Peter." She felt the tears welling in her eyes.

"Good. Well I best be off before he sweet talks Rita into buying the whole shop." He said laughing and headed in the direction of the Kabin.

"Peter?" Leanne called after him. He turned back to face her, "Let me know how she is after your visit. I don't want to put too much pressure on her if she isn't up for it."

"Will do." He said smiling and continued walking to the Kabin, waving good-bye to her.

Leanne smiled watching him leave. As she turned to continue towards Roy's, she paused and glanced into Audrey's salon, watching Maria as she removed hot rollers from a 60 something year old woman's hair. An idea dawned on her suddenly, and she entered the hair salon.

"Hiya love, what can I do for you?" Audrey asked her.

"Oh, actually Audrey I was wondering if I could have a word with Maria for a minute." She stated offering the woman a smile. Maria turned around and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Umm you know what Leanne, I'm on lunch as soon as I finish up with Mrs. Henny here. Wanna join me in the Rovers for a quick one?"

"That'll be great, I'll go get us a table yeah?" Leanne waved bye to Audrey and turned to leave the salon

"Be there in a jiffy." Maria called to her retreating back. Leanne walked across the cobbles to the Rovers. She had an idea that may just help bring Carla's memories back…

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hi Carla love. It's Peter, can I come up." Peter spoke into the intercom. He heard a brief pause before the sound of the buzzer. He opened the now unlocked door, and put his hand around his son's shoulders, leading him into the building. When they reached the top of the stairs, Carla had left the door open slightly ajar. He gave it a gentle push and rapped his knuckles against the door, smiling as he saw Carla crouched down on the floor, helping Liam clean up his toys. She raised her head and gave him a small smile before looking curiously to the young man who held his hand. Peter noted that her skin was paler than usual, and that dark circles had formed under her eyes. She was wearing the same clothes as the night she overdosed and he felt his heart skip a beat. He remembered the rawness he felt in his heart at the sight of her unconscious, almost lifeless body sprawled across the floor; broken glass and pills strewn about her, and his body involuntarily shuddered at the memory.

"Oh hello, and who's this handsome young man?" she asked his son as she stood up. Liam instinctively stood close to her, wrapping his arms around her leg and leaning his head against her thigh. Her hand stroked his hair before coming to rest on his shoulder and Peter couldn't stop the smile that formed at the sight; Carla Connor being maternal, he knew he wasn't the only one in Weatherfield to never think it was possible.

"Simon," his son's nervous voice snapped him out of staring at Carla; he glanced down and gave his son's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Simon stepped towards her, feeling a little braver as he remembered what his dad told him about Carla not being able to remember anyone in her life at the moment. He suddenly wanted to make her feel better; "I brought you some sweets. I know Liam likes gummy bears, and I heard you liked chocolate, but I wasn't sure which kinds you'd like so I bought a bunch of different ones." He rambled quickly. She let out a laugh and smiled as she accepted the bag he handed to her.

"Well thank you so much, I'm sure I'll love them all! I was just going to put on a DVD for this little one, did you want to watch too?" she said as she walked towards the kitchen, Liam still clinging to her leg.

"What movie is it?" Simon asked excitedly.

"Umm _Rio_ I think it's called." She answered as she placed the bag on the counter,

"Cool!" Simon said, a huge grin on his face as he plopped himself down on the large pillows on the floor in front of the TV that was set up like a fort.

Carla bent down swiftly and picked up Liam in her arms and twirled him around with her, "Liam here loves the beautiful birds don't you?" she said in a playful voice as he laughed and giggled.

"I reckon that's giving you a warning for the future." Peter said pointing a finger at her and she smiled at him.

"Oh don't I know it! He'll be a heart breaker for sure." She carefully shifted Liam so he was resting against her hip, and grabbed his sippy cup from the counter. She carried him over to where Simon was lying on his stomach and sat him down, placing the sippy cup in his hands before ruffling his hair and standing up.

"Would you like something to drink Simon?" she asked, "I have some juice in the fridge."

"Yes please!" he replied.

"Coffee, Peter?" she asked as she walked past him.

"Yeah but let me make it, eh?" he responded as he followed her into the kitchenette.

"Ohh you are my hero!" she playfully teased, but he could hear the weariness in her voice. She poured Simon a glass of juice, a yawn escaping her as she did so; she opened up the bag of gummy bears and poured half into a small plastic bowl. She wandered back over to the living room, handing Simon the juice and the remote for the DVD player. She bent down and placed the gummy bears in front of Liam, and noticed Simon struggling to open his own bag of sweets. Peter watched her intently as she offered her help and gently tore the bag apart before giving it back to him. Before she rose, Liam thrust his arm up at her, clenching a green gummy bear between his fingers. She playfully pretended to bite it out of his hand, smiling as he giggled before gently taking it from him and kissing his head. She popped it into her mouth as she headed back towards Peter, who quickly turned back to face the coffee maker, not wanting her to see that he had been watching.

"Do you want some help with that?" she asked noticing the awkward way he held the coffee disc in his hand and the way he was bent in front of the machine trying to figure out where it was supposed to go.

"Uhh yeah, do I just throw it at it or sommit?" He joked. She shook her head, and took the disc from him, placing it in the machine, closing the cover and pressing the button.

"See? Easy peasy." She joked as she playfully slapped his face twice, before leaning back against the kitchen counter to face him, her arms coming up to hug her chest protectively.

"So how have you been?" he asked her.

"Oh," she looked up and off to the side of her flat before looking back at him, "surviving." she answered honestly.

"Michelle tells me you haven't been sleeping much." The concern in his voice both comforted her and made her feel apprehensive; feeling slightly uneasy with the sympathetic tones everyone was taking with her lately.

"I slept the first night I was back here. Fell asleep in Barry's arms; but not before I had a mental breakdown of course. And I haven't really been able to fully sleep since then. I get a few hours here and there but then I'm suddenly back in that condo and I'm in his grasp and I can't escape." She was looking at the floor, her hand rising to massage her forehead. He caught sight of the bruises that remained around her wrists. They were fading, having turned yellow in colour, but the purples and blues of the marks still lingered; a constant reminder of what she went through.

The coffee machine beeped, breaking the silence that befell them. She removed the mug and handed it to him with a smile, before removing the disc and replacing it with another. Inserting her mug, she pressed the start button and resumed leaning against the counter again, her body beginning to tremble. Peter opened the fridge to retrieve the milk. As he was pouring some into his mug he heard a soft sob escape her.

"Hey," he started as he quickly put the jug down and went to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders; she had covered her mouth in a vain attempt to stop herself from crying, but the tears had already begun to fall down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled out, "I'm sorry, God, I'm such a wreck."

"Hey, it's okay love," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, his hand pulling her head towards his shoulder, "he's not here; he can't hurt you anymore."

"No he can't," she sniffled into his shirt, "he can't possibly hurt me anymore because there's nothing left _to_ hurt." He closed his eyes at her words, feeling the anguish behind them, "I feel empty and hollow inside, and I feel battered and bruised on the outside. I just want it all to end. Peter, I'm so sick of crying." she sobbed, "I don't want to feel scared anymore and-" Her voice lowered to a whisper, "and I just want to feel clean again."

"Oh love..." he sighed. Her last words cut into him deeply and he pulled her closer to him, rocking her softly back and forth. The coffee machine beeped again, and he gently pushed her away from him so he could look into her eyes, "go and sit down on the couch," he stated while caressing the hair on the side of her face. "I'll bring you your brew, okay?" She nodded in reply as she quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand. As she sat on the couch, she was grateful that Simon and Liam sat within the tented fort she had set up with Maria earlier that day. The sheets blocked their view of her as she struggled to pull herself together. Peter handed her the mug of coffee and sat next to her, placing his arm about her shoulders and lifted his legs onto the ottoman. She instinctively leaned her head into the nook between his shoulder and his neck as her legs curled up beside her. She could feel his fingers running through her hair gently as they both gazed at the movie playing on the TV, listening to the giggles that emitted from Liam and Simon.

* * *

"So do you really think it'll help?" Maria asked as she put a forkful of Betty's hotpot in her mouth.

"I don't know for sure, but it's worth a shot eh?" Leanne replied taking a bite of her sandwich. "I mean, nothing else is working is it?"

"I keep leaving Liam with her. She recognizes some familiarity in his eyes and I was hoping that eventually it would hit her why. But it hasn't yet. It's like-" She paused, her eyes drifting to the bar as she found the right words before looking back to the woman across from her, "it's almost as if she wants to forget everything that's happened to her in the past."

"Can you blame her?" Leanne stated softly. "We all know that icy exterior she wears is just a façade. She's been through hell, especially since Paul."

Maria mulled Leanne's idea around in her mind before asking, "Should we bring Liam with us?"

"I think it may help." Leanne stated, and Maria nodded her agreement.

"I'll get the flowers then."

Leanne smiled and sipped her wine. She needed Maria's help for this plan to work. She wasn't sure how Liam's widow would react to the idea, and was surprised and thrilled when she enthusiastically agreed. She found her mind wandering to Liam Connor and wondering if things would have been different had she not been an escort. Would she still be with him? Would Paul still be alive? Would Frank Foster have never been brought into the picture?

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Maybe this outing would do all three of them some good.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Thank you all again from the bottom of my heart for the reviews!**_

_**:)**_

* * *

Peter's eyes blinked open, being startled by the looping theme music from the DVD menu. He had drifted off on Carla's couch, his legs stretched onto the ottoman in front of him and head thrown back over the back of the sofa. As he lifted his head forward he hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to massage his neck as it cracked loudly. His eyes squinted as they brought the room into focus.

Simon had crawled onto the couch next to him and was fast asleep, his head resting comfortably on his dad's lap as his body curled up under a blanket. Peter smiled and used his hand to pull the blanket tighter around his son before looking on the other side of him. Carla had shifted so that the back of her head rested between his chest and shoulder. Her legs dangled over the arm of the couch and little Liam had positioned himself so he was laying on his side, having squeezed himself between the back of the sofa and Carla; half of his body draped over hers, his head resting on her chest just under her chin. She had her arm wrapped around him, cradling his head. Peter felt his heart leap at the sight. She looked natural, and he found himself wishing it was their child that was cuddling against her. But then he wondered if there was more to her bond with this child then even she realized.

Maybe it was because he was a toddler and she knew he couldn't hurt her. Maybe it was because she felt that even if she couldn't protect herself, that maybe she could protect him. _'Or maybe,' _Peter thought as his heart sank, _'maybe she feels her former lover's presence through his son. Maybe that's why she feels so unnaturally close to him.'_

He couldn't help feeling a rush of jealousy at the thought that the first person she was inexplicably drawn to, even through her amnesia, was Liam Connor; despite not remembering who he was. He thought that after everything they had been through together in recent months, that she would feel close to _him_. His mind filled with dread; maybe her feelings for him weren't as strong as she made them out to be. Maybe he was just another Trevor…someone to fill the void in her heart until she realized he wasn't, and would never be Liam.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a key in the door. He gave a small wave and raised a finger to his lips as Ciaran and Michelle walked in, followed by Maria who was carrying a bouquet of flowers. They all smiled at the scene.

"How long has she been asleep?" Maria asked quietly. Peter raised his hand to glance at his watch.

"About five hours." He whispered back. "I should get off though, get Simon his tea."

"How's about we order a pizza?" Ciaran asked quietly. "Nick is coming around to talk to Michelle, and Maria and Leanne are gonna take Carla and Liam out for a bit."

"Did someone say pizza?" Simon asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes. Peter smiled at his son and ruffled his hair before looking back at Ciaran,

"Yeah, alright. Cheers mate." He whispered back, before looking curiously to Maria. "You and Leanne?"

"Yeah, she had this idea that might help Carla trigger some of her memories." Maria whispered.

"Oh, right okay." He answered, confusion still evident on his features.

"I gotta go to the loo." Simon said as a yawn escaped him. He moved off the sofa and headed towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. At the sound, Carla began to stir, giving a soft groan as she forced her eyes open.

"Hey sleeping beauty," Peter whispered as he gently massaged her scalp, "how are you feeling?"

She sighed and tilted her head back to look at him, giving a smile. "I really don't know how you do it," she responded, "I seem to only have a peaceful sleep whenever you're around." She closed her eyes in total relaxation as his fingers applied small circles of pressure to her head, almost soothing her tired mind. She didn't realize the others' presence until Michelle crouched next to her. "Oh hiya. When did you get home?" She asked slightly startled as she turned her head to also see Ciaran and Maria standing close by.

"Just a few minutes ago love." Michelle said as she pushed a stray hair out of her friend's face. "I see you got Liam to sleep."

Carla smiled, "I didn't even realize he had plonked himself down on me until I felt an elbow in me rib." She laughed. "By then he looked so peaceful, and I was too exhausted to move him."

"Blimey, he doesn't even cuddle into me like that anymore." Maria laughed. "He must really love his auntie Carla." She reached down and picked up Liam in her arms, as Ciaran helped Carla into a seated position.

"Can I fix yous both a brew?" Ciaran asked placing both his hands on her shoulders.

At Peter's nod, Carla responded, trying to stifle a yawn, "go on then."

"Carla?" Maria said as she sat down next to her. "If you're up for it, I was thinking we could go for a drive in a little bit? There's something personal I have to do, and one of your old mates Leanne is going to meet me there; but I'd really like it if you could come with me and Liam?" At Carla's inquisitive look she continued, "you know, for moral support?"

"Oh umm, okay. Yeah sure I'll come with you." Carla agreed, not wanting to seem ungrateful for all the help Maria had been over the past couple of weeks. "Let me just get changed."

"No, have your coffee first." Maria replied as she stood up. "We'll leave in an hour or so okay?" At Carla's nod, she went to take Liam upstairs.

"Hey," Peter started as he placed a strand of hair behind Carla's ear, waiting until she turned to look at him before continuing, "How's about I stay with you tonight? See if we can't get you to sleep a solid seven hours or so?"

"What about Simon?" she asked concerned.

"Well it isn't Leanne's night with him, but I'm sure she'd love to have him."

"You and Leanne?" she asked curiously, and she glanced down to his left hand; suddenly kicking herself that she hadn't noticed the wedding band before, "you're married." She swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. Even she could hear the disappointment in her voice, but she was unsure why.

"Separated," He corrected her, and she felt a flutter in her stomach, "For a few weeks now." She looked away from him as she felt herself blush; silently wondering why she felt so comfortable around him and why her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her. Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

"Oh God," she put her head in her hands.

"Car? What's wrong?" Michelle asked placing a hand on her friend's knee.

"Why didn't I put two and two together before!" Carla gritted out, raising her fingers to her mouth as she looked to Peter, "Frank kept mentioning you to me. Saying you were the one who attacked me a few months ago. But after he was -" she swallowed hard remembering the night in the condo, "after he was rough with me again, and I remembered that _he_ was the one who raped me he tried to deny it; sayin' my head was just playing games with me. He said that my heart did not want to admit that it was you, the 'love of my life' as he called you, that violated me." Her brow furrowed in concern, "Why would he say that? He must of known you were marr- oh no..." she paused and the colour drained from her face, "Were we having an affair?" she asked as her eyes filled with tears, "Is that why he did this to me?"

Michelle grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes.

"Carla you listen to me: you were not having an affair." Michelle told her sternly. "Frank's just spinning lies to get out of what he did."

"It's true love, we weren't." Peter agreed he edged closer to her wrapping his arm around her.

"Then why?" Carla choked out, "why would he bring up your name constantly. Why would he try to make you out to be the enemy? Why would he do this to me?" Peter and Michelle exchanged a glance as if reading each others thoughts. It wouldn't do her any good to tell her the _whole_ truth.

"Because you broke it off with him the night before your wedding." Peter explained.

"You got cold feet, Car." Michelle continued, as she gently wiped the tears that fell down her friend's face. "He pressured you into the engagement, and he moved things so quickly that you panicked. You realized that you couldn't get married to him; it was just too fast for you."

"So there was nothing between us?" Carla asked Peter pointedly.

"Well I wouldn't say that," He began carefully, "We do have feelings for each other Carla, but we've never acted on them in the past." Peter said, deciding to leave the flirting and kisses they had shared out. "He was always jealous of how close we were. When you couldn't remember anything, he obviously used that opportunity to mess with your head."

"Are you telling me the truth?" she asked, the uncertainty in her voice.

He nodded in response, "I am. We never had an affair Carla."

"It's true love." Ciaran piped in as he handed her a mug of coffee, "Frank did what he did because he's a controlling bastard, not because of anything _you_ did. He's someone who needs to be in control. Your whole relationship he was trying to own you: buying a house, telling you how many kids you were going to have; making you feel insecure about yourself…he's a lying scumbag!" he ground out, feeling the anger rising within him as he remembered what she told him and Michelle the night they returned from their cruise. "And when he lost his grip over you, he decided to hurt you in the worst way possible. Now if you believe what he was telling you, that it was your fault, you're putting him in control again. You did nothing wrong, _he did_! Don't let him win Carla." He ran his hand down the length of her hair comfortingly before leaning close to her ear, "Besides, if you were going to cheat on him, would you really have gone after this mug when you could have had me all along?" he flirted, hoping his attempt at humour would break the tension that hung in the room.

"Oi you!" Michelle laughed as she chucked a pillow at him. Carla let out a chuckle, before running her hand through her hair.

"Umm I'm going to get dressed and try to clean myself up a bit before I head out with Maria." She sniffled, giving Michelle's hand a gentle squeeze as she rose to her feet, suddenly feeling the need to distance herself from everyone.

"So is that a yes to my staying over then?" Peter asked her retreating back. She paused at her bedroom door. She really could do with the company, _and_ a decent night's sleep. She sighed and turned around, offering him a soft smile and a nod. He smiled back at her, and she entered her bedroom closing the door behind her, leaving Ciaran, Peter and Michelle contemplating just how much their friend was suffering.

Carla sat on the edge of her bed. It was bad enough remembering that Frank had raped her in her own home, but now she was struggling to not only understand why it happened, but struggling to believe if Frank's words were in fact the truth; was she is love with Peter? Was it her fault? She felt herself growing frustrated and a feeling of helplessness washed over her. Why couldn't she remember the woman she was? Why couldn't she remember those around her?

She glanced at the photo of her and Paul on the bedside table, a sense of dread seeping through her; maybe there was a reason why her memories hadn't come back yet. Maybe she was unconsciously protecting herself from finding out the truth about her life.

'_Maybe, just maybe'_ she thought as she swallowed a sob, _'I won't like what I'll find.'_

* * *

Carla stood on the sidewalk, holding Liam's hand. Her eyes flicked across the road to the flashing neon lights of the _Men's Room_ club. Something about this place was eerily familiar to her. She looked next to her, where Leanne stood offering her a small smile. They both looked back as Maria replaced a bouquet of dead flowers, with the fresh ones she brought with her, near a wall littered with posters and graffiti. Carla felt uncomfortable as she saw tears welling up in Maria's eyes. _Why did we come here?_

She leaned in close to Leanne, "I'm sorry, but did someone die here?" she asked quietly.

Leanne nodded her head in response not taking her eyes off of the hairdresser in front of her, "Maria's husband, Liam's dad…" she looked at Carla, "your brother-in-law; Liam Connor." She searched the brunette's eyes for any sign of recognition but was met instead with confusion.

"When?" Carla asked softly.

"2008." Leanne responded, "He was hit by a car. It was the night of your hen party, and your fiancée's stag do." At Carla's shocked expression, she pressed on. "he was the best man."

Maria came to stand next to them. "You and Liam were really close Carla." She said wiping the tears from her eyes and picking up Liam in her arms. "We thought that by bringing you here, it might trigger some sort of memory."

Carla shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything." She stated quietly, but she was drawn towards the flowers that Maria had just placed. She turned to look at the road, her eyes flicking over to the flashing lights, and back again to the flowers. She bent down and smelled one of the roses, her hands playing with the petals. Leanne recognized the movement; she had done the same thing years prior when she brought her here. She gave Maria a nudge and the smaller woman stepped towards her sister-in-law.

"Carla?" Maria started, "Could you hold Liam for a minute?" Carla straightened up and smiled.

"Of course." She reached over and took Liam in her arms, giving him a huge smile as she did. Suddenly her face froze and her brow furrowed as she stared intently into Liam's eyes. _'Why do they look so familiar to me?'_ Her mind began to race and her heart leapt in her chest.

"Everything alright Carla?" Leanne asked, praying that her plan had worked. Carla just stood there for a moment, staring at Liam, before reaching over and plucking one of the roses out of the bouquet.

"2008," Carla stated quietly. "He died before his son was born. I'm so sorry Maria." She said as she looked at the younger woman. "I'm so sorry for you both." Leanne and Maria's faces fell; they were both sure she would remember.

Carla handed Liam the rose, "Do you want to put the flower down for your daddy?" she asked him, feeling the tears well in her eyes. He nodded and clenched the rose between his chubby fingers. Carla beckoned for Maria to come over, and the two women guided Liam's hand to the makeshift memorial.

"Daddy." Liam whispered and Maria let out a sob, wrapping her arms around Carla and her son. Leanne stepped forward, rubbing small, soothing circles along Maria's back. After a few minutes, Maria pulled back.

"I guess we should head back then eh?" She stated, as she looked at Leanne; the disappointment that Carla didn't remember, evident in her voice. "Thanks for coming with me you two. I really appreciate your support." As they began walking towards the car, Carla kept looking at the flowers; walking backwards as words flooded her mind,

"_I can't tell Tony what I'm thinking now can I?"_

"_What are you thinking?" _

"_Stepping out in front of this car-"_

"_Come on, come on"_

"_It's the only way we're gonna be together now isn't it?"_

She couldn't see any images in her mind's eye this time. She couldn't see faces, but she recognized the voices as her own and Leanne's. She felt her heart flutter as the words replayed over and over in her head. She reluctantly turned away from the memorial and slipped into the backseat of the car.

She watched as they pulled away from the street and the memorial; away from the blinking neon lights; away from the posters and graffiti.

"_It's the only way we're gonna be together now isn't it?"_

She didn't mention the recognition of the place to either woman; she wasn't even sure herself what she was remembering. One thing was for sure: whoever Liam Connor was to her, he held the key to her memories.


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: Wow! Almost 100 reviews! I'm so chuffed!**_

_**Thank you all so much!**_

_**:)**_

* * *

Peter sat propped on Carla's bed, absentmindedly fidgeting with the pull cords on the pair of sweats Ciaran had lent him for the night, as he remembered the events of the past few hours.

_Carla had excused herself upon returning to the flat to have a shower, kindly refusing dinner of any kind. Maria and Leanne used her absence to inform Michelle, Ciaran, Peter and Nick that the visit to the place where Liam died had done nothing to restore her memory. _

"_If visiting a place that was basically the beginning of her downward spiral didn't trigger her memories, then I'm starting to believe that her need to suppress them is gonna win out the desire to get them back." Michelle had said sadly as she sipped her wine. "Her and Liam were thick as thieves after she started dating Paul. She was gutted when he died, it was like losing Paul all over again; even more so when she found out Tony had him killed. I remember being so mad at her when I found out she knew and ran away." She had outwardly shuddered, and Peter assumed it was because she was remembering the fight she and Carla had engaged in outside the factory, and the ruthless things she said about her sister-in-law in the months that followed. "But she was scared; and Car, for all her tough exterior, was never good in scary situations…She freezes; she panics. I think it was something that happened to her in her childhood that causes her to leg it when she's petrified, but she's never told me what it was."_

"_She never will though, will she?" Leanne said quietly, "She's always been so guarded when it comes to her past."_

"_But what we gotta deal with though is the present." Ciaran inputted, "I can guarantee you that us trying to force these memories out of her is only going to make things worse."_

"_I agree." Nick had piped in, as he leaned against the kitchen counter, arms and feet crossed in front of him. "She needs to be at ease; relaxed for the memories to start coming back. Being under stress is only going to prolong it." _

"_Well, not to change the subject entirely," Ciaran started, placing a hand on Michelle's shoulder, "but speaking of a fun, relaxing time: Michelle and I have decided to have our rehearsal party in Nick's Bistro this Friday evening. We want you all to be there."_

_They had all shared their congratulations to the couple, hoping that the light-hearted festivities would do Carla, and them all, some good._

_Carla emerged from the shower some time later, and after some convincing from Simon, who had informed her that the slice of pizza he dangled in front of her was the best he's ever had, she managed to nibble her way through it before saying goodbye to Nick, Peter, Leanne, Maria and Liam._

Peter was snapped back to the present as the door to the bedroom opened and Carla entered wearing her satin pajamas and carrying two glasses of water.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want one," she began rather timidly, "but my throat seems to get extremely dry during the night, so I took a chance."

"Cheers love." He replied as he took the glass she passed to him and placed it on the bedside table. He gazed at her as she slipped into the bed beside him. As she pulled the covers over her body he noticed that her hands were shaking. She was nervous.

"Hey," he whispered gently as he reached out and stroked her hair, "I know it's hard, what with after everything you've been through, but I'm not going to hurt you Carla." She turned her head and looked into his soft brown eyes, "I would never hurt you love; never ever."

"He told me the same thing." She whispered quietly, and looked down to her wrist; running her thumb along the fading bruises. "He kept telling me how much he loved me. And that night-" she swallowed the lump in her throat, "-that night that he raped me here, he made me tell him that I loved him."

Peter's mouth formed into a tight line, anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior, and he shook his head in disbelief upon hearing the extent of Frank's psychological warfare on the woman he claimed to care so much about.

Carla didn't know why she was opening up to him about it, it just felt natural to talk to him, so she continued.

"I thought it would make him stop. I don't remember anything about our relationship; if I loved him but I just wasn't _in_ love with him, or if I never loved him at all. All I can remember is being terrified and wanting to avoid what he planned to do. I must have thought that by telling him what he wanted to hear that he wouldn't do it; that he would realize what he was going to do and stop," her voice cracked, "but it was no use. He had called me a liar. So I closed my eyes, almost bracing myself for it." Peter shuffled closer to her, continuing the gentle stroking of her hair. "He stopped suddenly and he whispered 'open your eyes _sweetheart_,'" the last word dripped of venom as it escaped her lips. She wasn't crying this time. This time, her fists began to clench and her jaw tightened; she was becoming angry. "I obeyed him, I guess foolishly thinking yet again that he would come to his senses, but no. He just wanted to see the look in my eyes as he raped me. He wanted to see the pain, the betrayal, the fear. He wanted to see me suffer." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before stating in a hushed whisper, "I hate him Peter." She opened her eyes and looked into his eyes as she said it, "I hate him with every fibre of my being. I hate how he has made me wary of everyone around me. How he has made me jump at every sound." Her voice lowered as she shakily whispered, "How he has made it hard for me to trust that _you_ won't hurt me too. How can you do that to someone you claim to love? How could you be so twisted to want to watch as you drain the dignity out of someone?"

Peter didn't know how to respond. Frank had fooled them all with his charm and doting on Carla. No one could see just how controlling he actually was behind closed doors; no one could see the monster that lay behind the respectable suit and chivalrous façade. Instead, Peter decided to ask the questions that had been plaguing him since they found her crumpled on the floor in the condo.

"What made you remember it was him that attacked you?" he asked softly, "Did he lash out at you the same way?"

She shook her head. "Oh no. I was a willing participant at first." She scoffed, angry with herself for allowing her rapist touch her, kiss her, and hold her intimately again; the thought of it causing her to gag on the bile that rose to her throat. Seeing her discomfort, Peter gently rubbed circles on her back encouraging her silently to continue.

"He was being so wonderful," she began softly, "He was so gentle and attentive and loving. And yet something in the pit of my stomach kept irking me; like it was trying to warn me of impending danger, you know?" at his nod she continued, "But everytime I had my doubts about him he'd swoop in with his charm and understanding nature and I eventually pushed the thoughts out of my mind. I was convinced, in part thanks to what he was telling me, that it was just my natural reaction to be suspicious of everyone after what I went through. He never tried anything more than giving me gentle kisses until that night in the condo. It all happened so quickly, I don't even remember how it started. One minute we were kissing in the kitchen, the next I was on the bed." She swallowed the lump rising in her throat, "sorry, but as you can imagine this isn't an easy thing to talk about."

"Hey, you tell me only what you are comfortable talking about and nothing more alright?" he placed a strand of hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

She gave him a small smile, "Surprisingly though, I'm feel comfortable talking to you." He smiled in return, and she took a deep breathe before continuing, "Everything was fine at first. But then his face just contorted in anger. It were like he was looking through me – no, it were like he was looking through someone else at me. Almost like there was another person between the two of us. It sounds stupid I know, but his eyes- God, they just darkened, and there was no reason for it that I could understand. He started getting rough; I tried to slow him down but he couldn't hear me, or if he did he simply ignored me. I tried to push him off but he kept flinging my arms away from him. He kept going harder and faster and it started to hurt so much and I started panicking; I thought I was going to pass out from the pain." She took a shaky breath and looked anywhere in the room but into Peter's eyes, embarrassed and ashamed of what she was telling him. "I kept telling him 'no','no'. I begged him to stop but he wouldn't. I tried squeezing my legs together to try to stop him but he just gripped my thighs and forced them open and God, it made it worse. He eventually grabbed my wrists and pinned me down. I can't even remember how long I laid there screaming, begging with him to stop. And when he-," she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat again, suddenly feeling sick, "-when he finished and he looked at me, he looked like he'd seen a ghost; almost like he didn't realize what he was doing. I must have been in shock, and everything was going dark around me; I could feel myself getting lightheaded, and dizzy. I woke up hours later; I must have gone unconscious. When I saw his arm around me I was sick."

"Is that when you remembered?" Peter asked her.

She shook her head. "No. He tried to explain that all he could see was you attacking me, and because every time he touched me I'd flinch involuntarily. He said he had kept his anger and emotions pushed down for my sake for months and that they all came rushing back in that moment –"

"So he blamed you again?" Peter scoffed shaking his head in anger.

"Yeah. Yeah I suppose he did. It was only when I went into the other room and saw the bruises on my wrists that it brought back some small memories of what happened here in this flat. Of course I didn't realize it was my own home until I got back here." She shuddered as the memories plagued her tired mind, but then there was a burning question she needed answered, "How did he find me?" she asked him quietly. "If I pressed charges, how was he able to follow me to L.A.?"

Peter shook his head and continued to caress her cheek, "I don't know love. None of us do. The police insist that he does not have his passport; that it had been surrendered when he was released on bail."

Carla shook her head as she took in the information, "This isn't over." She stated knowingly. "He's going to come for me again. He won't rest until I belong to him."

"He can't Carla. He can't touch you again." He whispered reassuringly.

"Can't he?" her head whipped around to face him, fire dancing behind her eyes. "Think about it: his passport was confiscated and he still managed to somehow get on a plane and follow me. He managed to lie to the doctors, to the hospital staff, to the condo owners; God he managed to spin a web of lies to me as well. He's obviously a good manipulator, and a pathological liar to boot. If you think he won't find his way back here, well...then you're naïve Peter."

"Hey," he grasped her shoulders gently in his hands and forced her to look at him, "Okay, it may be possible that he could find his way back on a plane; that he may find his way back here. But it's different this time. Everyone will be looking for him; and most importantly," he put two fingers under her chin, pulling her face gently to look him in the eyes, "he can't hurt you because I won't give him the opportunity. Carla love, I promise you I won't let him touch you again."

"Don't-" she whispered exasperated as she brought her hands up, effectively pushing his hands off of her, "-please just don't make promises you can't keep Peter." She turned her head away from him and looked at the wall, drawing her knees into her chest. Peter sighed as he observed her wrapping her arms about her legs and resting her chin on her knees. She looked so small, so fragile… so broken. His heart shattered. He reached out and pulled her towards him, hugging her to him as he lay back down on the bed. He cradled her head to his chest and rested his cheek on her head. He felt her leg entwine around his, as she allowed herself to relax in his arms.

"Okay, then how about this," he whispered into her hair, "I promise you that in the long-term I will do whatever I can to _try_ to protect you from him. But I promise that for right now, I will just stay here all night and hold you close to me." He laid a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "How's that?"

"Better." she whispered as she snuggled closer to him.

About ten minutes later, as they both began to drift off, Peter heard her soft voice, "Peter?"

"Yes love?"

"Could you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

There was a brief pause, "Call me sweetheart?" her voice cracked.

His heart broke at the request. He closed his eyes as he felt the tears beginning to form. He leaned in close to her, squeezed her tightly to him and gently whispered, "Good night sweetheart." Carla smiled into his chest. There was something familiar and comforting about the way he said it.

As she drifted off she heard Peter's faint voice in her mind, pleading with her,

"_Carla? Please don't go. Carla? Sweetheart, please stay with us…please!"_


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: Thanks again for the amazing reviews! I'm so happy you are enjoying it! :)**_

* * *

Peter silently closed the door to Carla's bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. Ciaran was already up, his back to Peter, making a pot of coffee and some breakfast.

"Mornin'." Peter greeted him. Ciaran slowly turned around at the voice, clutching the coffee press in one hand and a mug in the other. On his face was a huge cheeky grin,

"Moooornin'." He responded, pouring some coffee into the mug and giving his friend a wink. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, not too bad," Peter responded suppressing a smile, ignoring Ciaran's pointed implication. "Could I get one of those?" he asked pointing to the mug.

"Of course mate, help yourself." Ciaran stated, the knowing smile still gracing his features. "So uhh did Carla _sleep_ well?" he pressed lightheartedly as he handed Peter the coffee press and leaned against the counter.

Peter gave a chuckle at his friend's nosiness, "There was none of that mate. Just sleep."

"Hmm mmm." Ciaran nodded, "So no rekindled feelings or anything?"

"Nope." Peter stated and gave a deep sigh, "And I gotta be honest with you mate; After what she told me last night, I don't know if she'll ever let another man near her in that way again."

Ciaran's face fell. He had only been teasing with Peter knowing full well it was too soon for Carla, but he had hoped that with their renewed closeness that some show of affection might have taken place in the form of a kiss. He moved to stand close to Peter, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms across his chest. "How do you mean?"

Peter placed down his mug, his hands gripping the countertop to control the rage that boiled within his veins. "Do you know what that animal did to her? He made her tell him that she loved him while he-" he waved his hand in front of him, suddenly not able to say it, "-you know. It's far worse than I even thought possible. It's bad enough what he did to her physically and emotionally; but mentally? Mentally he was ruthless." He bent down to retrieve the milk.

"Poor thing." Ciaran sighed. "Did you find out how it happened in L.A.? Did he just lash out again?"

"No, it was worse. They started off consensually –" he paused; the thought of Frank and Carla together intimately was enough to make him sick, and he dropped his head to draw in a shaky breath, "- and then he just turned, getting rough with her and she- she couldn't - I mean- I mean how could she? He was already insi-" he couldn't piece together what he was trying to say and rose a hand to massage the bridge of his nose. But Ciaran understood what he was implying, and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder in moral support. Peter dropped his hand back to the counter with a sigh and continued, "That's why I think she's going to have a hard time being intimate with anyone else. How is she to know that the same thing won't happen again?"

"Peter, with time she will. You're not Frank and she knows that. Just keep being there for her like you have been all along. And you're not going to force her into anything she's not ready for mate. I know you: you'll wait as long as it takes for her to be ready."

"I'd wait forever for her…" Peter whispered. "I just wish she knew how much I care for her."

"Then show her." Ciaran encouraged, "Look, her and Maria are going to go shopping with Michelle today to find dresses for the wedding and the rehearsal dinner. How about tonight, you take her out for dinner; lay on that old Barlow charm. Let her see how much you care about her eh?"

"I reckon that's a good idea." Peter nodded his agreement, before chuckling and looking at his friend curiously. "Since when did you become a hopeless romantic eh?"

Ciaran gave a laugh and patted his friend's shoulder "Always have been my lad; but the shameless flirting always seems to get me farther."

They both laughed, and began dishing out the breakfast of eggs and bacon that Ciaran had made. Michelle wandered down the stairs talking on her cell phone,

"Thanks for holding the fort Hayles. I will pass it on to her, and call me if there are any problems, alright? Ta love!" Michelle ended the call and glanced at the table. "What's all this then?" she nodded towards the food. "I already agreed to marry you Ciaran, you don't need to suck up."

"My God woman: The size of your ego! Did you ever think maybe it's not you I'm sucking up too?" Ciaran teased her as Carla emerged from her bedroom, pulling her robe tightly around her and hugging her arms protectively in front of her stomach.

"You needn't go to all this effort at my expense Ciaran," she stated as she stifled a yawn, "you already have my approval to marry 'Chelle."

Ciaran looked at Peter, "These Connor women eh? Think everything is about them." Peter chuckled and Ciaran turned to face them, "Did you ever think that maybe I was buttering up me best man?"

Michelle and Carla exchanged a glance. Carla rolled her tongue along the inside of her mouth before resting it on the inside corner as she tried to suppress a laugh and Michelle raised an eyebrow as she responded, "Well come to think of it, it is out of the ordinary isn't it? I mean it can't be a coincidence that the first time Peter stays the night, there's this gorgeous breakfast waiting for us eh?"

"I think you may have some competition love." Carla stated as she kept one arm wrapped around her abdomen, and raised the other to scratch her throat. "We best make sure that the dress we get today will top whatever frock Peter will be sporting." Michelle snorted while Carla looked teasingly at Peter.

"Well then you best make sure it's short Michelle, because the dress I've picked out makes my legs to die for." He teased as he rounded the table and snapped the tea towel he was holding at Carla's legs, smiling as she jumped quickly out its path with a squeal.

As Carla turned she found herself pulled into a smoldering embrace. Michelle ensnared her arms around her sister-in-law and pulled her as close to her body as possible. "It is so good to hear you laugh again babe." She whispered into her ear before kissing her on the cheek and pulling back to look into her eyes, "I've missed seeing you smile!"

Carla couldn't help but smile back, "Ohh it feels good to smile an' all." She whispered back. "Frank has taken a lot from me, with my memories now rounding out the list," she managed a half smile, "but I can't let him keep taking from me. I can't keep looking over my shoulder for him; if he comes for me-"

"He won't Carla." Michelle interrupted her

"-_If_ he comes for me," Carla pressed on, "then there's a good chance that he'll find me and no amount of my being paranoid is going to stop him."

"Well, we're gonna do our damndest to make sure he doesn't." Ciaran interjected, "but in the meantime I suggest you sit down and actually put a good breakfast down you. You haven't eaten a proper meal since you got back." Carla nodded her agreement and they took their seats at the table.

They ate in silence for a bit, before Carla spoke up "This is absolutely delicious Ciaran. I really should repay you all for your support during these last few weeks." An idea came to mind, "Hey, how's about I cook you all dinner tonight?"

Michelle and Ciaran simultaneously choked on their food, triggering a spontaneous coughing fit out of them. Peter simply raised the napkin to his lips in an attempt to suppress a laugh.

"What?" Carla asked curiously. Michelle and Ciaran began to snicker, "What's so funny?" She pressed, as a smile began to form on her face.

"Well uhh, see love," Michelle started as she looked at her friend and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "you never were a very good cook."

"Yeah, you tend to leave the bag of giblets in the chicken before roasting it-" Ciaran began

"You burn eggs-" Peter continued

"Make cookies explode in the oven-" Michelle piped in

"Alright alright I get the point!" Carla put her hands up in mock surrender. "Blimey, I was only trying to show my appreciation."

"What? By giving us all food poisoning?" Peter remarked before dodging the napkin Carla whipped at him.

"Well, did it ever occur to you all that perhaps I don't remember that I can't cook? And that maybe by not remembering that I can't cook it will somehow make me a –better-cook, oh it sounds ridiculous, even to me." She flipped her hand in the air dismissively. Peter reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

"It was a lovely thought love, but the truth is I was actually going to take you out for a nice, quiet dinner tonight."

"What, just the two of us?" Carla asked, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

Peter nodded, "Yeah, only if you're comfortable with that of course."

Carla smiled shyly, "Yeah. Yeah I'd really like that."

Michelle smirked looking between the two, "Oh sure leave us to have dinner with my mother who will keep pestering me on whether or not I'm with child."

Carla's expression went serious, "Are you?"

"No!" Michelle said incredulously, slapping Carla's arm before laughing along with her. "No but seriously you two have a great time tonight, and I promise I won't wear her out from too much dress shopping."

"How many stores are we planning on going to?" Carla asked her, suddenly worried.

"All the ones in Manchester, and beyond." Michelle replied.

Carla nodded her head and smiled uncomfortably, "Ohh can't wait!" she faked enthusiasm, as she sipped her coffee. Peter let out a chuckle at her worried expression as they continued to eat their breakfast.

* * *

Peter stood in Carla's flat that evening waiting for her as she readied herself for their dinner date. She looked drained when she arrived back with Michelle, but insisted she had a great time with both her and Maria, having even found dresses for both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. After assuring him she was fine for their date, she went to get ready while Michelle and Ciaran left to have dinner with her parents.

He found himself drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter. He was nervous, but didn't really know why. It wasn't until he heard Carla's bedroom door open, that he felt his stomach flutter anxiously and it suddenly hit him: this was their first proper date. He turned to see her in a short, long-sleeved, sweater dress; one that she kept pulling down at her wrists, still self-conscious about the bruises that lay beneath. She wasn't overly dressed up and he felt relief wash over him as he glanced down at his jeans, dress shirt and blazer. As she stepped closer to him, he felt his heart skip a beat and he flashed her a huge smile.

"You look gorgeous as always Carla." He whispered as he pulled her in for a hug and kissed her forehead.

"You clean up well yourself," she responded pulling back to look into his eyes. "Shall we go?"

"In a minute: close your eyes." She gave him a curious look, "please?" he whispered as he reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. As she closed her eyes, he reached behind the counter, and tucked his present behind his back. With his other hand he caressed her cheek, leaning forward slightly and planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

She was surprised at his boldness, and her first instinct was to pull away; but there was something about his gentleness, and she felt herself kissing him back. He felt her respond to his kiss and he deepened it, their underlying desire for each other brimming under their calm exteriors.

She felt a flutter in her stomach; this was nothing like when Frank kissed her; there was always that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her that something was wrong. But when Peter kissed her she felt butterflies, along with a steady heat that coursed through her body, and the sudden desire to have his body as close to hers as possible.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, as she wrapped hers around his neck; each pressing themselves closer together; their kisses became fiery, hungry, and overwhelming. Their need for each other had a rush of intensity that spurred them on, neither wanting the moment to end.

Carla broke their kiss, abruptly aware of Peter's arousal as it pressed against her. She suddenly felt nervous...and scared. She looked up into his eyes, and he could see the fear that lay behind the olive orbs. He gently stroked her face, "Hey," he whispered catching his breath, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No," She closed her eyes and shook her head softly "please don't apologize." She lifted her head, gazing into his eyes again. "I don't regret it." She whispered.

"Well that makes two of us." He smiled at her and leaned his forehead against hers. They stood in each other's arms, swaying softly, foreheads pressed together for a while before he finally pulled back. He brought his arm from behind her and presented her with an orchid. She smiled at the beautiful flower in his hand and plucked it out of his fingers, letting her fingers gently stroke his as she did.

"It's beautiful, Peter." She thanked him gently.

"Not as beautiful as you." He whispered, his fingers still caressing her cheek. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately, her desire for him overpowering her senses. Without thinking, he began to move her backwards, their bodies intertwined as they fell on the sofa, madly kissing each other's lips. His hands roamed her body gently when he felt her tense beneath his touch. He brought his hands up to rest on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks and slowing their fevered kisses with gentle soft ones. He used every ounce of strength in him to slowly sit upright, pulling her with him. With a final, long and passionate kiss, he pulled away from her. Her breathes were deep and rapid and matched his own as he drew air into his lungs. He opened his eyes and gazed at her; her eyes remained closed as she attempted to slow her racing heart; her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and pink and he found himself self-consciously licking his own in response. She bit down on her bottom lip, leaning her forehead to rest on his again.

"Carla," he started, his voice raspy and breathless, "I want nothing more than to carry you into that room right now and make love to you."

"Then why don't you?" she asked, her voice husky and laced with passion.

He sighed deeply, "Because when we do, I want you to be completely ready. I want you to trust me entirely, and know that I would never do anything to harm you."

"How do you know I don't feel that way now?" she asked, shakily opening her eyes to look into his.

He ran his hand down the side of her head, gently grasping the hair at the base of her neck and caressing it softly between his fingers, "Because you're shaking sweetheart."

She sighed deeply, pulling her forehead away from his and looking about the flat as she tried to suppress the tears that threatened to fall.

"God, I'm such a frigid cow." She breathed out suddenly, her voice quivering with emotion.

"No," he grasped her face between his hands, forcing her to look him in the eyes, "No love, you're not. But I want our first time together to be special and-" he took a deep breath before continuing, "-and I want to make you forget everything that that monster did to you. I want to wipe away all of those bad memories and replace them with good ones. And for that to happen, we need to give you a bit more time."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"Don't be. Hey, come here." He pulled her into a warm embrace, and whispered into her ear lovingly, "I would never ever force you into something you're not ready for. I'll wait as long as it takes, okay?"

He felt her nod against him and pulled back to look into her eyes.

"Come on," he motioned for the door, "let's get you to that restaurant and make every man in there green with envy."

She chuckled and nodded, flashing him a smile, "Thank you Peter." He stroked her chin with his thumb before pulling her up to a standing position. Still holding the orchid to her, she picked up her purse and followed him to the door.

They exited her building, walking hand in hand to his car. They were unaware of the set of eyes that watched them in a nearby car. They did not notice the car following them to the restaurant, nor were they aware of it as it sat parked outside of the restaurant where they ate dinner; its owners eyes burning into them as they conversed with each other, and as they exchanged small gestures of affection.

"Gotcha." The owner smirked before driving off into the darkness.


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay...it was Victoria Day weekend here in Canada! Happy Victoria Day to all who are reading this! **_

_**Thanks again for all the reviews! **_

_**Enjoy! :)**_

* * *

Carla walked past the Rovers Return, her eyes taking in all around her; the street was empty save for the sounds of voices coming from the pub. It was the first time since she returned from L.A. that she walked up the cobbles of Coronation Street. Ahead of her, Nick's Bistro was bustling with energy as the rehearsal party was in full swing. Maria had run back to her flat upon realizing she forgot the card for Michelle and Ciaran. Carla insisted she would wait just outside the Bistro for her return, and watched as the blonde went running across the street.

She wrapped her coat tighter around her as an abrupt chill filled the air. She looked at the Christmas lights adorning many of the homes, and shops, suddenly relieved at the thought of being able to spend the holidays with friends and family and not in L.A. locked in a condo with her rapist. She shuddered at the thought of him, and subconsciously hugged her arms across her chest. She could hear the music and laughter coming from the restaurant, and instinct told her to wait where she told Maria she would; but as she approached D&S Alahan's shop, her eye was drawn to a building on her right. She found herself walking across the cobbles, transfixed by the factory before her. She stood outside Underworld, staring at it curiously. Without warning, her mind flashed images of flames engulfing the building before her, and for just a moment, she felt as if she was suffocating on a mixture of smoke and petrol.

"_The second was to a Scot, Tony Gordon?" _she heard Frank's voice in her head,_ "He died in an explosion at a factory." _

"_I was scared of him." _She heard herself ask him,_ "Why was I scared of him?"_

* * *

_"Why don't you have another," she tried in desperation as he stood by the factory doors; the lights from the police cars flickering through the darkened factory._

_"People are waiting," he replied as he turned back to her._

_"I'm sure nobody would be disappointed if we walk out of here any time we like," she continued as she kept trying to untie her bound hands._

_"Is this your plan," he asked, the gun in his hand now pointed at her head, "to keep me talking?" _

_"We can talk all night if you want to," she responded, still hoping to reach the man she once loved that lay somewhere inside the madman before her._

_"Do you really think you're going to go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning?" he asked maliciously._

_"I'm the eternal optimist me, aren't I," the tears now flowed freely down her face._

_"You're already dead," he gritted out; his anger for her deeply scorching her soul. _

'_How did it come to this?' she thought as she began to cry._

* * *

"_So this thing with Liam-" he began after downing a shot of whiskey_

_She scoffed, "love of my life."_

"_Yeah right," he said sarcastically, though she was sure he was simply trying to convince himself, "the odd kiss, secret encounters…you didn't love him; you loved the subterfuge."_

"_Oh and what brilliant subterfuge it was," she taunted him knowing she was getting closer to the truth, "hey we even had subterfuge in my wedding dress, at my dress fitting…it were great." She stepped towards him, "It were a million times better than it's ever been with you." He angrily spun around to face her, and she felt fear course through her but she knew she had him where she wanted him; "in fact," she pressed on as he scowled at her and slammed the glass down on the table, "when I do it with you I have to pretend it's him-" he stepped towards her angrily and she finally recoiled in fear but asked the pressing question, "was this how angry my Liam made you?"_

"_Your Liam?" he sneered._

"_Yes, he were mine." she found her confidence coming back, suddenly furious at him as she screamed, "you know what I'm sick of not being able to say it!"_

"_Oh shut up, will you just shut up! Cause you are making me sick." he ground out as he stepped ever closer to her watching the fear overtake her features at his rage, "I'm sick of him!" he suddenly shouted into her face, his own contorting in fury "I'm sick of thinking about him. I'm sick of everything to do with him. I thought about him 24/7 when he was alive, and even now he's gone, he's everywhere!" he exploded as he walked out of the office, leaving her shaking in his wake._

* * *

_She had sat next to him on the stairs, trying to get him to talk about Liam one last time. Her earlier attempt at angering him did not bring about a confession but it got her closer to the truth. She tried a different attempt. She leaned into him and pleaded with him. She laid her emotions out in front of him, and lied that what she felt for Liam was actually lust and not love. She told him that she loved him, and she wasn't lying; but in her heart she knew she loved Liam more. _

"_It's just I need to know Tony," she pleaded with him, "'cause every time I look at you I'm wondering…" she leaned her head onto his shoulder, trying desperately to reach him, and yet terrified of what he might say, "and I really need to move on from that cause it's killing me Tony not knowing; you're killing me." Her voice cracked._

_He turned to face her and she could see into his troubled eyes, so loving and so betrayed, "I wouldn't harm a hair on your head." He stated genuinely, grasping her hand in his. She kept pressing him, asking if all the concern for Liam and Maria, and the tears he shed at the gravesite were just lies. He wouldn't respond, just stroked her hand as it rested on his chin. _

"…_Come on it's me, it's Carla!" she tried desperately, "why did you need to lie?"_

"_Sorry." He breathed out remorsefully._

"_I know you are darlin'." She soothed, her heart flipping at the idea that she was getting close._

"_I can't lie anymore," he continued, pursing his lips and shaking his head._

"_Tony?" he looked in her eyes as she whispered to him, and he could feel the terror radiating from her._

"_I killed him." he confessed, and he watched her eyes widen in fear, "I had him killed..." though he could see she was shaking, he continued, "but I did it for you." _

A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump.

"Carla? You okay?" Maria's asked gently, her eyes full of worry as she gazed upon the brunette.

Carla caught her breath and turned to face Maria, her eyes were wet with unfallen tears, beads of sweat had formed along her brow, and her body was shaking. "He tried to kill me," she stated as she nodded back to the factory, "he wanted us to die together, in each other's arms…in there."

"You remember Tony?" Maria asked, hope filling her features, as she grasped her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Do you remember why?"

She didn't respond; she simply looked into Maria's eyes before a rush of shame overtook her. Maria cupped Carla's cheek in her hand, "Carla?" she pressed gently, "do you remember why Tony tried to kill you?" Carla eyes dropped to look at the ground, and she nodded her head,

"Liam." She whispered. Maria's eyes lit up.

"You remember Liam?" Her voice was hopeful, but Carla shook her head. Maria closed her eyes and sighed, disappointed at how she got her hopes up yet again. She pulled Carla into a hug.

"No. I don't remember him." Carla continued, breathing into Maria's shoulder. "I don't remember him or Paul." She pulled back and quickly wiped the tears that threatened to fall.

She felt an overwhelming guilt course through her before she looked back into Maria's eyes, "But I know what I did…with Liam…God, I'm so sorry Maria."

"Hey! It's all in the past that. We've moved on, and we've been through so much since Carla. "No more apologies alright?"

"I only seem to remember the bad things don't I? Why can't I remember the good?" she whispered.

"You will Carla. I promise they'll come back to you, just like this did." Maria said comfortingly.

Carla shook her head, and scoffed bitterly "What? And do you think that they'll justify the bad? Justify that I was an adulterer? Justify that I was the cause of a murder? Justify that I am the reason why my nephew grows up without a father?" She furiously wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "Well if that was the person I was Maria, then I don't want to remember anymore." She lowered her head and spoke softly, "I dunno, maybe I got what I deserved from both Tony and Frank."

"Don't say that Carla!" Maria said as she grasped her sister-in-law's face with her hands, "no one deserves what you've been through." She sighed deeply. She could see there was no getting through to Carla at the moment. "Look, let's not talk about this right now eh? Let's just go to the engagement party. Let's have a few glasses of champagne and I'll even let you slow dance with me." Carla let out a laugh, closing her eyes briefly before looking into the blonde's again. "And if you aren't feeling better after that," she continued, "then I'll take you home and we'll talk, okay?"

"Okay, but uhh just give me a few minutes yeah?" Carla said as she gave her a smile. Maria nodded before gently wiping away the mascara smudges from under her friend's eyes and heading towards the Bistro. Carla remained in front of the factory, as another memory flooded her mind.

_He cupped her chin gently, his fingers stroking her cheek in spite of himself, while the barrel of the gun he held was pressed against the side of her mouth. "Why did you do it?" he asked her, his voice laced with betrayal. _

_She sobbed into his hand, "I don't know." She answered truthfully, "Maybe something's not right in me head; something's not wired up right…I don't know!" She felt his eyes as they bore into her, a mixture of love, lust, anger, and hate. "Maybe you and me are more alike then I want to admit." she tried._

"_Look at what we've done, look at the lives we've wrecked, we don't deserve to live." He explained as if trying to convince her,_

"_Why not, why can't we just-both get out of here eh? Hey we can go somewhere just me and you eh?"_

"_We're going to be together forever." He stated almost happily. He was too far gone, but she tried one last attempt at reasoning with him._

"_What if we had a baby, hey? I saw you looking at those pictures of Maria's. What if you had one of your own would it give you something to fight for?" she could see him contemplating it, "Something to live for eh Tony?" _

_But his mind was made up, "No babies." He released his grip on her and placed the gun on the ground, kicking it away from them._

"_It's time." He stated methodically, and she watched in horror as he pulled the lighter from his pocket, letting out a small gasp as he ignited the flame before her eyes. _

"_Don't I get a last request?" she begged, as she tried desperately to break the ropes that bound her._

"_It's time to say goodnight," he stated as she sobbed behind him. He fell to his knees in front of her. _

"_No!" she sobbed, her voice hoarse with fear, her eyes fixated on his back_

"_It's over!" he threw the lighter onto the puddles of petrol. She screamed as the factory floor ignited into flames._

Carla shuddered against the chill of the winter air. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and began walking towards the engagement party. She paused in front of The Kabin, turning to take another look at Underworld.

_'__Look at what we've done, look at the lives we've wrecked, we don't deserve to live.'_ Tony's words echoed in her mind, she began to wonder if he was right.

She looked up at the night sky, wondering sadly if she even deserved the kindness from those around her. She didn't even think she ever had Maria's forgiveness for what she had caused her.

She debated disappearing from the street and from everyone around her, not wanting to cause them any further pain or suffering; not wanting to be the root cause of their troubles anymore.

She was about to walk away from it all when she remembered sitting in a police car...

"_Should have just had a large whiskey and a long bath instead." Her head was pressed against the window._

"_What pretend like it never happened?" Maria stated quietly from beside her._

"_Women have been doing that for generations."_

"_Yeah but not you Carla. You're a fighter."_

"_Yeah I thought so and all. When it came down to it though, I didn't fight enough. I woke up this morning…" she paused, lifting her head to look at Maria, "God, this morning…" her head fell back to rest on the window._

"_Go on, " Maria encouraged her._

"_There was a freesia on my pillow. No rose – tacky. A freesia. It was sweet as anything." _

_She felt Maria's hand grasp hers, stroking it softly in encouragement as they continued the drive in silence._

It was Maria she had called after Frank raped her. It was Maria who stood by her during the questioning, and Maria who continued to support her still. She smiled in spite of herself and stroked her hand where Maria had in her memory. She couldn't turn her back on her now. Neither Tony or Frank had managed to isolate her from those who cared about her, and that gave her hope; hope that there was something about her that _was _worth saving.

She looked up to the night sky, before turning on her heel and walking to the Bistro.


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: Thank you all for your support and reviews for this story. There will be one final chapter after this. **_

_**I'm not sure how well this chapter will come off to you all: it seemed to play out better in my mind. I tried to separate each of the memories by bolding every other one, so as not to have them too jumbled. **_

_**I don't know how I feel about this chapter myself...I'm my own worst critic.  
**_

_**If you get a chance, listen to Cavalleria Rusticana- Intermezzo during the flashback sequence. **_

_**Hope you all enjoy!**_

* * *

Barry glanced to the corner of the Bistro where Carla sat with Peter and Maria. She was nestled between them looking slightly uncomfortable with the looks the other guests were throwing in her direction. Most of Weatherfield had been invited to the soiree, and they couldn't seem to contain their need to gossip when Carla walked in. It didn't help that it was common knowledge that Peter and Leanne had separated and he was clearly moving on with Carla; a fact that didn't go unnoticed by many of the guests. There were hushed whispers when Peter gave her a kiss hello, and held her hand as they went to the bar.

Barry felt his frustration growing as he watched his daughter-in-law uncomfortably massage her forehead and fidget with the glass in front of her, while residents like Norris and Mary continued to stare at her from across the restaurant; whispering to each other inconspicuously. He sighed heavily; it was bad enough that she couldn't remember who she was, or anyone around her for that matter; but now she was the topic of conversation at a party where she was meant to be having a fun and relaxing time. He watched as she made her way to the bar to order a glass of wine for herself and Maria.

When she reached for her drink, the faded bruises around her wrist caught the eye of Dev. His face fell and he quickly averted his eyes and moved to talk to his slightly intoxicated wife, who happened to be standing next to Barry and Helen. Barry normally ignored the side conversations of those around him, but this one caught his ear and he found himself eavesdropping in spite of himself.

"…and she's still got the bruises around her wrist. The poor thing. I can't believe I ever thought Frank was telling the truth." He gritted out dramatically as he waved his hand in front of him for effect.

"It's not your fault Dev," Sunita began "He had us all fooled. And the truth is, everyone is innocent until proven guilty aren't they? We can't go having a witch hunt because of every accusation that's thrown around."

"Yeah but Sean, and Maria, and Kirk all believed her right away. Even Peter Barlow could see through Frank's little act."

"Well maybe there was another reason for that." Sunita stated quietly as she took a sip of champagne.

"How do you mean?" Dev asked, and Barry and Helen leaned in closer to hear.

"Oh come on Dev, look at them. He just _happened_ to move on with Carla so soon after bringing her back from L.A.? And why did_ he_ go to L.A. to find her? We all know Carla had feelings for him for a while before Frank even came into the picture; obviously Frank found out about it."

"So what Sunita, you saying he thought the reason she broke it off with him was because she loved someone else?"

"Is it that so hard to believe? We all could see it in the way she looks at him. And let's not forget what Peter divulged at his blessing, remember? And Frank, well, he must have been gutted when he found out she was in love with someone else. He loved her so much."

"Wait, wait, wait: what are you saying exactly? Are you saying she deserved what he did to her because he was _hurt_?"

"Noooo," Sunita said with little conviction, as she swayed slightly obviously having had too much too drink. "I'm just saying it could be looked at as a crime of passion can't it? There are lots of people unfortunately who physically attack or even worse kill their spouses when they find out they've been cheated on; Frank was probably so hurt by her betrayal that maybe he just lashed out –"

"Alright that's enough!" Barry stated angrily slamming his drink down on the bar behind Dev and his wife, causing her to jump and spin around in shock. A hush descended across the restaurant, and Carla shifted awkwardly in her seat as Barry glared daggers at Sunita.

"I hope that your child never experiences what my daughter-in-law has been through these last few months. I'd like to see if you'd be so quick to justify a rapist's _reasoning_ then." He ground out bitterly. Sunita's eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment, as Dev looked uneasily around him, noticing that all eyes were now on him and his wife.

Helen put a hand on her husband's shoulder, having never seen him react so aggressively before. But Barry only had eyes for Sunita as he continued, "Now, we are here to celebrate my daughter's upcoming wedding, _and_ to welcome back a member of our family who we thought we had lost to the monster that took everything from her. If you came simply for the free booze and to gossip then I suggest you leave before I escort you both out." Barry turned to the rest of the party, raising his hands out on either side of him whilst raising his voice to ensure they all heard him "And that goes for every single one of you!"

Carla, who had been uncomfortably watching the scene before her, felt a small swell of relief course through her at the fact that someone had finally addressed the elephant in the room. Within a few moments, the Bistro began bustling with chatter again; the guests having taken Barry's threat to heart. She felt Peter take hold of her hand reassuringly, and he leaned in close to whisper, "You okay?" His hot breath tickled her ear and she felt a pleasurable shudder flow through her at the gentle, husky tone of his voice.

She turned to smile at him and nodded, "Never better." She responded. He leaned in, kissing her gently on the corner of her lips, before excusing himself from her side.

Barry watched the exchange intently when an idea dawned on him. He made his way over to the one person who could help him, "Nick?" The blonde-haired owner turned to face him, arms crossed in front of his chest, and flashing him a wide grin,

"Yes Mr. Connor, what can I do for you?"

"Barry, please. I was wondering if I could pick your brain," he motioned to the office, "in private?"

"Yeah absolutely." Nick motioned for him to lead the way and followed him into the back.

Helen watched her husband's retreating back before turning around and catching sight of Michelle and Carla now sitting in the booth by themselves. She picked up her drink, and with a sigh headed over to the booth.

"Can I join you two?" she asked them. Carla smiled and nodded. Michelle eyed her mother suspiciously, praying that she wasn't about to make a scene.

"I've always loved weddings you know?" Helen started, not quite looking at her daughter or daughter-in-law, "they are a time when you put everything behind you and move on." She looked at Carla and felt the tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm sure you've been filled in that you and I have never really gotten on for quite some time." Carla shook her head softly in bewilderment, "Well, I'm sure you'll remember in time; but I want you to know something Carla…I never hated you. I was envious of the love my sons had for you. You had this pull over both of them; you were able to get them to jump whenever you wanted them to, and I was so worried that you would take them away from me and keep them to yourself." She looked down as the tears cascaded down her face, "but the truth is Carla, you never wanted to take them away from their family. You never wanted a divide between us…you just wanted a family that loved you." She looked back up into Carla's eyes that were now wet with tears and confusion, "I never knew how much you loved my Paul until your wedding day."

Helen took a sip of her drink, placing the glass back on the table and sighing deeply to steady her voice. "There I was, sat in the room with Paul; trying to convince him that you would only break his heart, because you were a selfish and self-centered woman. And as if on cue, Liam came knocking. He brought a gift that you had made for Paul." She pulled a small picture frame from her purse, no bigger than a mobile. Michelle gasped, having not seen it since the wedding day. Inside the small wooden frame were two pieces of wax paper, holding a dried purple Calla Lily. The frame had an inscription carved into it: _**You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. – Dr. Seuss**_

"Our Paul always said you had a soft side that you wouldn't let anyone else see." Helen stated as she handed Carla the frame, watching the woman's eyes as she observed it in her hand. "You always came off as tough as old boots Carla; and I couldn't, at the time, for the life of me see you ever really loving anyone; but then I saw this charming, heartfelt gift, with this beautiful quote carved into the frame; and I realized just how much depth you had to you. That underneath that tough exterior simply laid a young girl, just wanting to be loved." Carla didn't raise her eyes from the flower; her eyes filled with tears as she tried desperately to remember her relationship with Paul.

Michelle saw her struggling, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "It was the first flower Paul ever gave you Car." she explained "You dried it and kept it pressed between an old book; making sure nothing would ever happen to it."

"Paul saw the real you, and so did Liam. But for me it was easier to mistreat you Carla then to admit that I was wrong for all those years." Helen continued remorsefully, reaching out and pushing a strand of hair out of Carla's face and tucking it behind her ear. The younger woman looked into her eyes, her face wet with tears and Helen choked on a sob as she continued, "I'll never forgive myself for how I treated you, but I just hope that in time you can forgive me, and we can move forward." She pulled Carla into a hug. Carla wrapped her arms around Helen, awkwardly returning the embrace. Michelle leaned in as well, wrapping her arms around both her sister-in-law and her mother, resting her cheek on Carla's back. Helene pulled back from the embrace, and stroked Carla's cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen with her fingers. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but words escaped her. She gave a reassuring smile to them both before excusing herself to go to the powder room.

Michelle observed Carla as she continued to look at the frame in her hand. She reached her arm around her, and placed her other hand on the shoulder closest to her, giving the broken woman a gentle shake, "hey, you alright?" she asked quietly.

Carla offered her a small smile and a nod of her head, "Yeah." She raised her eyes to look into Michelle's before stating, "Look, this really shouldn't be about me tonight. This is about you and Ciaran."

Michelle smiled at her, "Hey, I just want to make sure my maid of honour is feeling good before I go drag my fiancée up to slow dance." Carla gave a laugh before leaning her forehead in to rest on her friend's, closing her eyes as she did so.

"Thank you so much 'Chelle, for everything." They sat gently rocking back and forth for a few moments before Barry's voice boomed across the restaurant.

"May I have everybody's attention please? I'd like to call up my beautiful daughter and her fiancée so we can give them both a proper toast."

Michelle gave Carla's hand a gentle squeeze, before standing up and linking arms with Ciaran. Carla watched as they made their way towards the bar of the Bistro, and smiled as Maria and Peter resumed their places on either side of her.

"Now, thanks to Nick here, I have been fortunate to find the song that my son Paul insisted on playing in the background when he made his wedding speech to his gorgeous wife Carla." At the mention of her name, Carla glanced up to see all eyes on her and subconsciously shifted deeper into her seat. Barry smiled to himself, hoping his plan would work.

"The song is _Intermezzo_, from the opera _Cavalleria Rusticana_. I felt that if Paul and Liam had been able to be here, they would have insisted on playing this song for, as Liam used to call it, 'cheese factor.'" At everyone's chuckle, the song began to play and Barry began his toast.

"My darlin' Michelle…"

Carla became entranced by the song playing throughout the Bistro. She looked down to the dried calla lily in her hands, and was suddenly taken in by a range of emotions. What Barry didn't realize, was this song played at two crucial points in her life; the first on her wedding to Paul when he made a beautiful speech to her; the second was during her last conversation with Liam. Unbeknownst to her, Liam felt it fitting; as if Paul was watching over them, encouraging them to be together; giving his approval. But it was not the way Carla had viewed it. She saw it as a betrayal to Paul, and she let the music fill her that night and it gave her the strength to lie to Liam…to let him go.

"…and there she was, sitting on the swing, arms crossed in front of her; face like the Dickens'…" Barry continued

Carla lowered her head, trying not to draw attention to herself as an array of memories flooded her abruptly.

_Michelle: 'Listen: whatever you say, I know you loved my brother, and whatever you think right now, he adored you; couldn't bear to be without you.'_

She closed her eyes, as memories flashed one after the other; they pulsed through her brain and she willed them to stop their vicious onslaught of her mind. But she could not stop them…her memories were finally coming back.

_Paul: 'I was just thinking about the first night we got together. Do you know how long ago that was? It was your birthday 10 years ago.'_

**_Paul: 'let's face it money is just money, this: this is this.'_**

_Carla: 'Can I ask you a question?'_

_Paul: 'That is a question.'_

_Carla: 'Would you say you were happy?'_

_Paul: 'Would I say – well no I probably wouldn't say it cause you don't do you, but I'm happy enough yeah?'_

**_Paul: 'My only secret is, I am passionately in love with a fantastic woman, whose only fault is she likes lying around in her dressing gown all day.'_**

_Paul: 'We can work this out-'_

_Carla: 'No way.'_

_Paul: 'We always work it out.'_

_Carla: 'Paul? You've been caught with your trousers around your ankles and your credit card on the bedside table. What you really think you can persuade me this was just another adventure eh? On our roller coaster of a marriage?'_

**_Paul: 'Carla I love you now as much as I ever did.'_**

**_Carla: 'Well how ironic, cause I hate you now more than I ever have!'_**

_Carla: 'Why did he have to make me hate him before he died?'_

**_Carla: 'Yeah, it were always Liam. From the minute we shared that first ciggie. Even when I was married to Paul, Liam was the one. Not that he knew it then, or if he did he never let on..'_**

_Carla: 'You're complicated Liam. You're like, you're like Paul was but without being so screwed up.'_

Peter heard a sharp intake of breath next to him, and his eyes shifted to see Carla gripping the table in front of her; her knuckles were white, her forearms tensed, and her eyes squeezed shut. Maria had an arm wrapped around her, having already noticed her discomfort. He made a move to touch Carla but Maria threw her arm out to shield her. She met his eyes and shook her head mouthing to him to let her be. Maria had assumed she was remembering something; her body was convulsing the same way it did when she first came back from L.A.; she quickly stole a glance at the crowd in front of them, grateful that they all had their backs to them.

_Carla: 'Have you really never felt anything for me? – Hand on heart. That when we're together there's a.. uh, I don't know what to call it.. there's something Liam. Right or wrong, there's something'_

Carla breathed in slowly trying to steady her racing heart. An image of Liam appeared before her and she felt a lump forming in her throat. She could feel Maria's arms holding her close, shielding her from the view of the guests at the party.

_Liam: 'You are the root cause of everything.'_

_Carla: 'You fancy me like crazy. That's the root cause of everything.'_

**_Liam: 'Tell me your stomach doesn't flip when I walk in the room. Mine does, has done since the minute I first saw you'_**

_Carla: 'And I don't think you get it Liam, I don't want to feel this way about you!'_

**_Carla: What did you think of me back then? Honestly. What did you think the day you met me?_**

**_Liam: The first time Richard Burton saw Elizabeth Taylor, he said: she looks so beautiful he almost laughed out loud._**

**_Carla: You see, how come nobody says that about me?_**

**_Liam: I just did._**

_Carla: 'I don't need protecting'_

_Liam: 'I think you do'_

**_Liam: 'Just listen: I love you! I think I probably always have, alright?'_**

_Carla: 'I really can't deal with this right now!'_

_Liam: 'Well you're gonna have to cause I love you Carla!'_

**_Carla: 'Just stop it Liam, alright? You're only doing this cause I'm marrying Tony. Just leave me alone!'_**

The music was swelling around her, pounding through her head, she leaned forward covering her ears as if to shut it out, but to no avail. The music now resonated within her mind; gently moving the memories along.

**_Carla: 'I know one thing: if I turn my back on Liam, I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life."_**

_Carla: 'It's over, alright? I'm sorry it ever started but it's over. So why don't you get back to your life, eh? And let me get back to mine.'_

**_Carla: 'You happy?' _**

**_Trevor: 'Happier than you'll ever be' _**

**_Carla: 'How'd you work that out?' _**

**_Trevor: 'Cause least I'm not still running after a dead man'_**

_Liam: 'I know we'll be hated. I know what we stand to lose. So what. We can start again, from scratch. At least we'll feel alive.'_

**_Carla: 'It's you, ya big pilec! And don't, please don't tell me this is a school girl crush 'cause you're right under me skin.. and I'm guessing by the look on ya mush you didn't have the slightest inkling did ya?'_**

_Carla: 'He makes me feel alive.'_

_Liam: 'Liar."_

_Carla: 'Believe it.'_

**_Frank: 'You're one of the strongest women I know.'_**

**_Carla: 'Oh no, that's front darlin', ya know, showtime? And I don't admit that to many people.'_**

**_Frank: 'I'm honoured.'_**

_Michelle: Believe it or not Carla, I do actually give a damn about you."_

**_Carla: 'Genie's out the bottle Peter. Everytime I look at you we're both gonna know I fancy ya - this is one very doomed friendship.'_**

_Leanne: 'When you find someone that you love, really love, well everything else it's just stuff isn't it, you know? Nothing else matters.'_

_**Liam: 'You will never feel this way about anyone else...'**_

_Carla: 'I had a bond with him, you know, because of what we've been through. And yeah I wanted to see it as love, because that is what I needed - so badly.'_

**_Liam: …'You'll go to bed missing me…'_**

_Leanne: 'Just ask yourself: can I live my life without him?'_

_Carla: 'Oh no. That's one thing I do know for sure.'_

**_Liam: '… and you'll wake up aching, wishing I was there.'_**

_Trevor: 'You want me to spell it out? I am not Liam, I never will be. And neither will the next poor mug who falls for ya!'_

**_Carla: 'Can you not just accept what I'm tellin' you instead of questioning me?'_**

**_Frank: 'No. Not when one minute you won't marry me and the next minute you're telling Peter Barlow how close we are it doesn't make any sense. And he was there wasn't he? In the pub at dinner time. I saw him. Maybe that's why you turned me down eh? 'Cause he was watchin'. I think he means more to you than you care to admit. Either to me or to yourself-'_**

**_Carla: 'Okay…I'll marry you. If you still want me too.'_**

**_Frank: 'wh- of course I still want you to.'_**

**_Carla: 'You're a good and you're a decent man, and I love you. So okay, yeah, let's get married.'_**

_Peter: Well I do worry about you, I worry about you all the time. _

**_Tony: 'Real tears? What are those for?'_**

**_Carla: 'Us.'_**

**_Tony: 'You destroyed us.'_**

**_Carla: 'I loved you'_**

**_Tony: 'You don't know the meaning of the word'_**

_Carla: 'I've just opened my chest and shown you my heart. Question is, what you gonna do about it?'_

**_Frank: 'Using me to make your boyfriend jealous…a smokescreen! And now you think you can just chuck me away? Job done?'_**

_Carla: 'Stop it! We never slept together. I just can't get him out of my head, that's all.'_

**_Liam: Do it, see how long the marriage lasts. I'll own you.'_**

_Carla: There's no fixing what Frank's done to me._

_Michelle: What's he done? Carla what has he done?_

**_Michelle: Carla you've never surrendered in your life._**

_Carla (to Liam): 'I don't love you.'_

**_Carla: 'I just called to say good-bye'_**

Peter: _"Carla? Please don't go. Carla? Sweetheart, please stay with us…please!"_

Her eyes flew open; tears clinging to her cheeks, and she pulled long breathes into her body. She felt Maria and Peter caressing her, trying to comfort her, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear Barry still making his toast,

"…And so I'm going to leave you with the words your older brother said on the day of his wedding: Just remember my darlin' loving someone-"

"-Loving someone is a leap of faith." Carla interrupted meekly. The crowd suddenly turned to look at her; Michelle moved towards her; her eyes filling with tears as Carla continued, forcing herself to stand as she did, "You are giving them your heart and trusting them not to break it...No matter what happens, I will never regret making that leap for you." Carla finished, her voice cracking with emotion. Her eyes were locked on her best friend's, as she now stood before her.

Michelle stifled a sob, "You remember?"

Carla nodded and sniffled, "I remember." Carla cried before the two collapsed into each other's arms, pulling each other as close to the other as possible.


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N: Couldn't resist.**_

_**Here's the conclusion. :)**_

* * *

His eyes scanned through the crowds; Couples romantically entwined with one another; groups attempting to stay together, parents holding their children's hands; all were bustling through the corridors with their suitcases and bags full of wrapped presents.

December 23rd – the busiest day for travel.

_It was the perfect cover._

Frank walked down to the customs counter, standing in the line with a passport in his hand. He kept his eyes down, avoiding contact with those around him. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see a police officer standing next to him.

"Excuse me sir," the officer said sternly, "might I trouble you to come with me please?"

"Might I ask what this is about?" Frank asked emotionless.

"I'd prefer it if you came with me first sir."

"Of course," Frank agreed, not wanting to make a scene, "but there really is no need for the formalities. I'll cooperate in any way I can."

The officer took hold of Frank's elbow and led him through a staff only access entrance. The halls winded round multiple areas until they reached two steel double doors. The officer opened them with a push and the sudden burst of sunlight was so blinding that Frank had to temporarily shield his eyes. He was led to a police car, where he was motioned to get in. Frank watched as the officer sat in the driver's seat and started the ignition.

"Thanks for grabbing my suitcase Donald." Frank stated

"Was a piece of cake Frank. This badge gets you an all access pass. How was the journey home?"

"Uneventful. The in-flight movie was some dreadful romantic comedy, and the food bordered on something you would get in a shelter." He grumbled.

"Well at least you got a tan out of your trip to L.A. eh?" Donald responded as he drove the car out of the car park.

"Yeah, and it was the only thing I got." Frank stated somberly. "I had her Don. I had her back in my arms, and back in my bed. And that insufferable Peter Barlow showed up on his bloody white horse and took her from me…again." He gritted out, glaring daggers into the back of the officer's head.

"I gotta tell you Frank, I didn't see that one coming. After Malone and I took their statements in the pub, I thought for sure he wasn't going to jet off to find his lover. I mean, I didn't think his wife would have let him go without a fight."

"That's why you are still a junior officer Don. You don't have your wits about you yet." Frank sighed, "What about Malone? Does she suspect anything? You?"

Don shook his head, "Nah. I replaced your confiscated passport with a fake. As far as she knows, it's still there. And as for me, she hasn't the slightest inclination of my involvement. She _is_ suspicious of your whereabouts, but I think we can maneuver around her. No one can prove you were ever in L.A."

Frank nodded slowly, "I made sure to pay cash for everything, and I used fake names. The only pressing matter was that Dr. Martin."

"Do we need to buy his silence?" Donald asked

Frank gave an evil smirk, "Oh no. I can assure you Dr. Martin will not be coming forward as a witness."

Donald gave him a knowing smile. "You do cover your tracks well Foster, I'll give you that."

Frank chuckled and looked out the window as they drove the streets of Manchester. He began to think of his raven-haired obsession and smiled at the thought of having her in his power once again. He had just a few small details to sort through before he could put his plan into action. _'When we meet again sweetheart,'_ he thought maliciously, _'you're going to wish you never left L.A.'_

"So tell me Donald," he asked leaning forward to lean on the seat ahead of him, "other than the dinner you spotted her out on with Barlow, what else has my lovely Carla been up to in my absence?"

**To be continued…**


	25. Chapter 25

_**A/N: Just a short preview for the sequel.**_

* * *

She ran across the pavement, hearing the pounding of feet behind her. She reached the Draper Mill Flats main entrance and hastily thrust the key into the lock, turning it with such haste she thought it would break. She pulled the door towards her, flinging it to the side; not waiting to see if the men behind her were able to catch it before it closed.

She raced up the stairs, two at a time before coming face to face with the door marked number 4.

She breathed shakily, seeing the door was left ajar.

"Michelle!" Ciaran called as he reached the top of the staircase, followed closely by Peter.

They stood in stunned silence staring at the door. Her face contorted in anger before she pushed it open. She let out a strangled gasp, at the sight.

Carla's flat was empty; broken glass littered the hardwood, and the phone was strewn across the floor. Faint fingernail marks could be seen etched onto the overturned coffee table, as if someone had clung to it for their life, before being brutally dragged from it.

"No." Peter breathed out. "No not again."

Michelle bent forward and picked up the New Years Eve crown she had given Carla; the one she was meant to wear that night. She held it to her chest, closing her eyes tightly.

She would not cry this time.

This time, she was pulsing with rage.

"Foster is going to pay for this." She heard Peter remark viciously from behind her. "This time when I find him, I'm gonna kill him!"

Michelle's lips curled into a sneer, as she nodded in agreement.


End file.
